Felicity Smoak vs the League of Assassins
by quiveringbunny
Summary: Felicity Smoak has finally consummated her relationship with Oliver Queen in Nanda Parbat. Now she'll have to put her genius brain to work and use every resource at hand to rescue him from his fate as the new leader of the League of Assassins. This story starts off loosely based on some elements from the show, but devolves into my own version of events pretty quickly.
1. The Consort Makes Plans

Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I hope you like it. This one will have more action and adventure than my previous stories. Please note that things do get steamy in future chapters so…NSFW.

**XxXxXxX**

It would be a tremendous understatement to say that Felicity Smoak was angry. No, she had worked up a head of steam capable of driving a locomotive. The current situation was unbearable and needed to be resolved, quickly, before any more lives were lost.

For this reason, Felicity was not back in the chamber where she had just had insane "finally we are having sex" sex with Oliver (so far she was refusing to call him Al-Saheem). Instead, she was standing in a dark anteroom waiting to meet with the first of two men who had contributed to this terrible situation she now faced. Her mind was still a little distracted with glimpses of passion. Oliver's arms enveloping her. His mouth stealing her sighs. The feel of his hips in her hands as her thumbs rubbed the indentations in his nearby muscles. This was her happy place.

Then the door swung open. Frack. The Demon's Head brushed past her and muttered the word, "Come." She followed in silence.

Ra's Al Ghul always looked shorter than she expected in person. But he made up for it in sheer gravitas, resulting in him seeming like quite a formidable man. He wore heavy brown robes and his beard was trimmed carefully – probably by some minion. This led Felicity to thinking what a lousy job it would be to be beard trimmer to the Demon's head. Was that a job? She snorted a laugh and mentally kicked herself in the face. Now was not the time to climb down the free-association rabbit hole. Ra's looked at her disdainfully as he moved to sit in a carved chair near a row of velvet drapes.

Felicity studied him for a moment before speaking. She knew she hardly had a chance of affecting the current situation, but she had to do something. And the first step towards any progress was getting to know the enemy. Oliver's enemy. Her enemy.

"I hope you aren't here to waste my time begging, Miss Smoak. If you have changed your mind about becoming the consort of Al-Saheem there are a dozen other females here eager to take your place tomorrow."

_I'll bet there are_, she thought._ Hands off, bitches_.

"No, that isn't it. I wanted to meet with you to discuss Oli- Al-Saheem's new role. How I can, as his…" she nearly stumbled on the next word – it was so archaic, "consort, be most…useful to him and to the League, of course."

Ra's eyed Felicity warily. This slip of girl with bright lipstick and a ponytail was a wildcard in his mind. He waved to the hassock nearby, indicating that she should sit. She drew closer and lowered herself.

"I am not entirely confident that you will be an asset. I have heard you are very intelligent. Resourceful."

"That's true. Top of my class, actually."

"But you are a terrible fighter. If I handed you a sword you would probably injure yourself with it before you landed a blow on me. Even if I stood still and my eyes were closed." Felicity's brow knitted, wishing he wasn't right about that.

"I am not that bad. Besides, physical strength doesn't always win a battle. I took down Slade Wilson, you know. And he was a big, scary guy drugged with Mirakuru."

"I am not familiar with Mirakuru."

"It's a nasty drug that makes people into superhuman monsters," she rushed as Ra's eyebrow rose. "He also had an eyepatch, like a pirate. A scary monster pirate." She waved her arms around and pantomimed. "Wait, his patch with on this side and I was here…Did I get the drop on Slade because I took advantage of his visual impairment? How am I just thinking of that? Crap. " Ra's sighed. Loudly.

Ra's stood up and approached her. He loomed over her. "You have a manner that seems rather ridiculous, Miss Smoak. Lighthearted. This is a serious place." Felicity looked down at the floor, trying to stop the vocal diarrhea she was currently afflicted with. After all, this visit was about getting Ra's to talk, not her.

"But if whispers around Nanda Parbat are true, the noises coming from Al-Saheem's bedchamber last night indicate that you and the Heir are physically compatible."

Felicity's eyes' widened and her face turned pink. You have no idea, pal. She plastered on a smile and nodded. Learning there was a gossip mill within the League was a useful tidbit of information.

"Yup... pretty…awesome." She looked around, avoiding eye contact.

"Well, perhaps I should have taken you for myself…as a parting gift." Ra's leaned toward her, crowding her personal space. Felicity snapped her gaze up to meet his eyes.

"Wait. I don't think you can do that." Felicity felt a full on babble coming. Ra's Al Ghul pulled back and pivoted away.

"I understand that you are capable in the field of digital communications. The League will benefit from that."

_Great_, she thought._ If MIT ever finds out they are so disinviting me from the alumni mixers_.

"But, of course, your main role will be to support Al-Saheem and produce heirs."

Felicity's mind whirred. She had learned that her official activities would now be limited to 1) working with computers – hurray, and 2) having regular stress-reducing/baby making sex with Oliver – hell yeah. She nodded slowly, signaling obedience.

"Umm, regarding the whole producing heirs thing. I mean, you have heirs, blood heirs, but chose Oliver. Were you chosen or did you inherit the…honor?"

Ra's began to walk the length of the room.

"I was the son of very ordinary people. My father owned a grocery store in our village. But I chafed at the smallness of my home and its people. So, I left to find a life for myself. Out in the world, I was vulnerable. I fought anyone and everything that crossed my path. And then I found the League. The Demon's Head saw something in me and after proving myself in many battles, he anointed me the Heir, as I have chosen your man."

"I see. What happens when Al-Saheem steps up to take your place? I mean, what happens to you? Retirement? Do you go off on walkabout or get a condo in Boca or what?"

"The path is different for every Demon's Head. After I was installed, my predecessor reabsorbed back into the League as a nameless, faceless entity, just like any other member. I never saw him again. His predecessor stepped off the edge of a cliff. As for my path…it shall be revealed in time."

"I see."

"On that, Miss Smoak, I must end this discussion. You have much to do to prepare for the ceremony. And I am still the Demon's Head for the time being." The look on Ra's Al Ghul's face told her that she was being dismissed.

"Thank you," she jumped up, causing the hassock to groan against the stone floor. Felicity rushed out of the room, anxious to put space between her and Ra's. She stopped in the hallway outside and gathered her wits. Just sharing the same space as that man was unsettling. She longed to rush to Oliver's side and bury her cheek against his warm neck for reassurance, but she had another important task to complete before she could slip he hands inside his cloak and feel him.

**XxXxXxX**

When Malcolm Merlyn answered the knock at his door, he wasn't expecting Felicity Smoak to rush in. Closing the wooden panel behind her, he certainly wasn't anticipating the blonde's first move would be stride forward and knee him in the crotch. But that was exactly what she did.

"What the hell?" he gasped. His small chamber whirled around him.

Felicity fist-pumped the air and seethed, "I've been wanting to do that for such a long time."

Merlyn, slightly hunched over, looked at her with surprised, angry eyes. "It's not a smart idea to overstep, Miss Smoak."

Felicity stood defiantly in front of him. "Oh, I don't think you'll be doing anything about it. After all, I have kind of special status around here now. It wouldn't be healthy to mess with the Heir's consort."

Malcolm nodded, regaining his breath and posture.

"Did you just come here to work out your frustrations? Pre-wedding night performance issues got you down?"

"Oh, you really don't want to go there. As a matter of fact, there are no issues at all. Just ask anybody. Apparently it's the talk of the monastery." She paused. "That sounded weird."

The Dark Archer's eyes narrowed and he tilted his head with an unspoken question.

The thought of gossip got Felicity's paranoia going and she scanned the room. Spotting thick tapestries at the far wall, she motioned for him to follow her. He watched incredulously as she stopped at one of them, lifted it and ducked behind it. Her hand reached out and summoned him to join her. At this point, he was so disoriented by her, he shrugged his shoulders and slipped under the curtain. This was completely ridiculous.

"Why are we here?" Maybe Felicity Smoak had lost her mind. It was a distinct possibility, given everything he knew she had gone through.

"It's important that no one overhears this conversation. Our lives depend on it." Felicity used her elbow to push the tapestry away, letting some light in while it muffled their voices to prying ears passing outside the chamber.

"Go ahead."

"I came here because you are a despicable excuse for a human being. Your hubris got us into all of this. I could go on all day about the terrible things you have done to people and the consequences of your screwed up brain. But as much as I hate to even look at you, I recognize that you may be of use. To me." She moved close enough to qualify as being "in his face." He leaned back as she continued, staring with dark eyes, shaded by the woven fabric.

"So you are going to do everything in your power to help me fix this clusterfuck or I am going to end you in every way I possibly can." Her voice was steady and matter of fact. "And while Oliver feels that it's important to spare you because you are Thea's father, I do not agree. I know from personal experience that blood doesn't automatically deserve loyalty. Or respect. So, you are going to help me and maybe, just maybe you'll work off a tiny sliver of the pain you've caused countless people."

Merlyn's intense expression crumbled. He closed his eyes for a moment and leaned back against the wall.

"How is Thea today?" she asked, her tone softer and filled with concern.

"She's still unconscious. But her body seems to be responding well." Malcolm watched her concerned expression. He recalled that Felicity always looked concerned when talking about other people. He laced his fingers together and brought them up to his lips. "What do you want from me, then?"

"For now, I need you to tell me about this place and these people. Everything. The League of Assassins isn't something I can research on the web and I need inside information from someone who has lived as a part of it." Malcolm nodded in recognition, thinking already about the significance of her request and the deadly consequences of his participation. "I just came from talking to Ra's and –"

"What? You talked to Ra's?" Merlyn's eyes grew wide. Just the image of the two of them having a conversation was beyond ludicrous. He took a turn holding the tapestry as Felicity's elbow faltered. "How did you manage that?"

"Like I said, when you are the consort to the future Demon's Head..."

"And you don't seem to be bleeding. Impressive. You know, after your ceremony tomorrow, Oliver is one step closer."

Felicity tilted her head back at him, waiting for him to stop talking.

"Right now the only thing I have going for me here is that I am an unknown quantity to these people. Ra's doesn't think I can fight. So I also need you to teach me." Malcolm quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Digg and Sara trained me a little, but this place is lethal." She wrapped her arms around her chest, suddenly feeling a chill from the honesty of her own words. "Look I am sure I will never be as good as anyone here, but hopefully just being better than is expected of me will be enough. So, no one can know about it."

Malcolm nodded his recognition. She was right about needing to be able to protect herself. Nanda Parbat was a dangerous place, even for the Consort. She might even have to fight off rivals for Oliver's affection. There were ambitious women in the League who would be happy to see him a widower.

"So, you find out everything about the League. You learn how to fight. How are you planning to get Oliver out of his commitment?"

"I'm not, actually. That would take too long."

"So you're resigned to becoming –"

"Yeah, Mrs. Demon's Head. That is so wrong. But the stationery would look really cool, right?"

Malcolm huffed and shifted his weight against the wall while she threatened to rabbit-hole. Up until this moment, Malcolm had no idea how the blonde fit with Oliver Queen's broody intensity. But now he saw it. Since returning from the island, Oliver gave off the vibe of a low steady beat and this young lady was an erratic pulse, a shock that defibrillated him every time he threatened to shut down. They kept each other alive.

"No one, even Oliver Queen, can quit this, Felicity." It was the first time he had called her by her first name and hearing it made her grimace.

"Oh, Oliver isn't going to…there will be no quitting." The words dripped from her pink-stained pout.

Merlyn's curiosity reflected in his eyes as she started to chuckle.

"You aren't only looking at the Consort to Al-Saheem." What she was about to say was making her excited and nervous at the same time.

"Ra's just made me IT girl to the League of Assassins…which means now I get to burn it to the ground."


	2. The Consort Consorts

This chapter is NSFW. You're welcome.

XxXxXxX

The rest of Felicity's day before the ceremony consisted of spa treatments attended by way too many people. Most of them were armed, which basically removed the whole "relaxation" vibe she usually got from being pampered. She was grateful when they finally released her and she could make her way back to Oliver that night. When she found him, he was sitting on a sofa wearing a t-shirt and lounge pants. A pile of oversized, weathered tomes were open on the table in front of him. The books chronicled the history of the League. There was a cot in the room, which she only noticed fleetingly, returning her gaze to her love.

Oliver brightened when he saw her.

"What's all that?"

"I'm supposed to study the history of the League."

Felicity dropped her coat and moved quickly to sit in his lap. "Isn't it ironic?"

Oliver sat back to accommodate her arrival. "That I washed out of four colleges and the League of Assassins now makes me study. Yes, it is."

He greeted her mouth with a hungry kiss and pressed a hand firmly against her thigh. After being surrounded by cold stone and lunatics all day, Felicity was grateful to feel his warmth surrounding her again. When their lips finally parted to find air, she smiled and dropped her cheek against his neck. "I love you, Oliver Queen."

"Love you." He kissed her hair and inhaled the results of her activities. "You don't smell like you."

"No? I hope I don't smell bad. God knows they scrubbed and rubbed and dipped me in every kind of perfume and oil you can think of. I feel like sexy veal." She slowly rolled her shoulders and shifted in his lap, eliciting a groan and a smile. Sexy veal.

"You still smell nice. Exotic. I'm just not used to it. I always liked the way your hair smelled in the Foundry when I would lean over your shoulder to look at your monitors. Didn't you notice, after patrols I would come over to see what you had on your screen? I usually did that to smell your hair.

"Yeah, Diggle completely busted me on it once and after that he would clear his throat whenever he noticed, just to mess with me." Oliver dropped his chin and started to nibble on her shoulder.

"I hope John is okay," Felicity said quietly.

"He's home. With Lyla and the baby. Safe, where he should be."

Felicity raised Oliver's chin with her delicate finger and capture his eyes. "I'm home too. With you. Wherever we are." Oliver managed a tiny smile and brushed his lips over hers. It morphed into a slow, lazy kiss that made her feel a little drunk. Her head lolled and her eyes trained on the new piece of furniture in the room.

"Oliver, what is that?" Oliver's eyes were still closed as he ran his tongue along her neck.

"If it's hard and you're sitting on it, I think you can guess," he chuckled.

"No, I know what that is. I meant that…the _cot_."

"Oh, right. That's for me. The Consort and the Demon's Head shall refrain from relations the night before the ceremony," he relayed the rule in a formal voice, like it had been stated to him.

"They can't be serious. Yesterday, they wanted us to sleep together and today we can't? Crazy people."

"Maybe if we're quiet," he offered, rubbing her knee with his thumb, setting her on fire.

"Oh, they'll know." Felicity remembered what Ra's said about gossip and was annoyed. Her day was not going to end the way she had hoped.

"I know. I thought I was done aching for you, too. So many nights I was desperate to touch you. But I couldn't so I would stomp off to take a shower." His hand ran down her exposed arm. Felicity couldn't stifle her giggle.

"Cold showers for me?"

Oliver caught her eye and twinkled. "Sometimes I took a hot one." Felicity grasped the connotation.

"Oh!" She smiled and grasped his arm, silently marveling at how just touching it raised her pulse.

"You are checking out my bicep right now," he chortled into her hair.

"Yup. You aren't the only one who…suppressed."

Oliver laughed. "Oh, really?"

Felicity gave him a look that was part embarrassment and part disbelief. "I could make a very long list of things I did to deal with my frustration."

"Now you have to tell me." Oliver nibbled on her ear. Slowly. Sucking lightly on her earlobe elicited a moan. "Tell me something you did. Scandalize me, Felicity Smoak." He moved to cup her breast outside her tank top.

Felicity grinned. She loved seeing Oliver like this, completely distracted from the weight of the situation outside these walls. The last thing she wanted was for him to lose himself in this terrible place. Touching him. Calling him by his real name. Loving him. These were the things that would keep him sane while the League attempted to mold him with their brutality.

"Scandalize you. Hmm. Well, there were a couple of nights. Salmon ladder nights. I told you I was staying to upgrade software."

"Yeah?"

"Well, after you left, I may have gone back to your bed and…finished what you started."

Oliver's eyes and mouth opened wide at the same time. Then he laughed suddenly, shaking them both.

"Oh my bed? I can't believe I missed that!" he cried out.

Felicity smirked and mocked protest. "Hey, I had to. Those Unico office chairs are great for lumbar support, but lousy for mastur—"

She didn't get to finish the word as Oliver's mouth crashed into hers, hungrily. How could a woman be so wanton and so adorable at the same time? His brain simply couldn't process it. His kiss dominated her completely, his lips kneading hers, his tongue sucking and tangling hers until she moaned and her hips shifted uncontrollably. She was breathless and blushing when he finally released her.

"How am I supposed to…how are we supposed to…refrain?" she gasped. Oliver bent down to plant kisses on her chest. Even through her tank top, her breasts enjoyed his attention.

"I have an idea about that." Suddenly, Oliver picked her up. Despite her weak protests, he walked her over to the large bed and put her down. He leaned in and rasped into her ear.

"I want to watch you. Show me what you did. On my bed."

He stepped back and took her in. She blinked a little more than usual, processing his request. Then, Felicity watched as he moved gracefully around the room, arranging the candles and torches until the space was transformed. Dramatic. Sensual. The sounds of their breathing filled the air. She removed her shoes and dropped them to the floor.

"Are you sure this is allowed within the interpretation of the rules, Oliver?"

"I don't consider this 'relations,' do you? It's more like research," he smiled. "Important, really. We may learn useful things. After all, you are consort to the…me."

Oliver walked toward the cot, putting distance between them. Felicity knelt on the red duvet facing him, her knees slightly parted. She felt his deep blue eyes caressing her. Her bottom lip instinctively slipped between her teeth.

"Do you need inspiration, Miss Smoak?"

That's when Oliver pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor. Felicity viewed his torso in the harsh golden light and covered her mouth with her hands to stifle a loud gasp. After a moment, she pulled her fingers away, revealing a delicious grin that spoke directly to his straining crotch.

"I've always excelled at other kinds of research, so..." She trailed off before peeling off her tank top and bra. Now it was Oliver's turn to react. He went to the cot and steadied himself to sit down. He took his eyes off her for a brief moment, but when he looked up, she was only clad in white satin panties.

"Damn." He had no more words. Just that one. Felicity adjusted her posture on the bed, widening her knees, making sure Oliver had a nice view. She remembered back to those nights in the Foundry when she was overcome with lust and desperate to feel his touch. How writhing on his sheets made her feel close to him. She fantasized that he might walk in one night, find her there and join her.

Felicity palmed her breasts first and then began rolling her hips, causing her body to warm. It was a tantalizing show, really. When Oliver looked like he was going to boil over, she concentrated on one nipple as she slid her other hand down touch herself through her underwear. Excessive moisture darkened the fabric at once and Oliver lost all of the air in his lungs. He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to remain cool, but seeing his girl that turned on only a few yards away made his whole fucking body vibrate.

He watched as she pulled some pillows behind her back for support, and then she leaned back, knees parted. She wanted him to see everything she was doing. Research. Felicity plunged her fingers beneath her panties and delved into her wetness and soft skin with a moan. Oliver hardly breathed as he watched his love grinding hard against her own hand. She licked her lips between chants of his name. When Felicity stopped to peel off her soaked panties, he stood and tugged on the drawstring of his pants and maneuvered them around his erection so they would fall to the ground.

Felicity reclined again, but now her sex was glistening in the firelight. The sight of Oliver standing naked and perfect in front of her inspired her. Her fingers became needy and restless. Meanwhile, her hips rocked with tension. Nearby, Oliver was overwhelmed with excitement. The sight of her pale skin glowing as she writhed and said his name was something he would never forget. He paced the floor in front of the bed like a lion, moving, but never taking his eyes off Felicity. He could see her need increasing. Her orgasm was close and he didn't want to miss it. God, he loved her so much.

Staring at her lover while she pleasured herself was affecting Felicity deeply. The intimacy of it was overwhelming. Oliver had a look of lust on his face that she had not seen before. It made her feel sexy and wanted in a way that words could never express. She was also pleased that despite everything that was going on with Ra's and the League, Oliver was allowing himself to lose himself to pleasure. When she saw his hand slowly reaching down his abdomen to grasp his desperately rigid cock, she came apart, bucking hard against the bed. Her head fell back and she panted, feeling the effects reverberating through her body.

It took some time for Felicity's breathing to return to normal. Just as she was about to shift and look over for Oliver's reaction, his face was hovering over top of hers and he held his fingers up against his lips to signal silence. Felicity nodded.

"Good night, Felicity," he called out for the benefit of whomever was listening by the door. His eyes were dark with excitement. She felt him pressing against her entrance.

"'Night!" she responded in a loud voice. And then Oliver pressed his fingers to her lips and slid inside her. She gasped quietly and wrapped her legs tightly around his hips. As he began moving, she sucked his fingers into her mouth and massaged them with her tongue. Oliver's lust increased exponentially at that moment. She constantly surprised him. They had hardly been together a couple of days and she had blown his mind multiple times.

"I love you," he whispered quietly into her ear as he moved inside her. "I love breaking rules with you." He pulled his fingers from between her teeth and replaced them with his lips. She responded to his kiss and opened her legs further so he could get a better angle. He took the opportunity and began to thrust harder and faster. Felicity was burning up and grabbed whatever muscle she could to encourage him. Arms. Thighs. Ass. They were all hard and strong and now they were hers for the touching. A few minutes later, he came with a muffled groan, letting go of everything and collapsing on top of her.

When he finally turned his head to face her, Felicity mouthed the word "Research" with a decadent grin.

Oliver smiled and pressed a kiss to her cheek, his eyes lazy and happy.

Then she whispered quietly, assaulting his ear with hot breaths.

"Do you want to hear about what I did with your leather pants once?"

Oliver Queen buried his face hard against a pillow and roared.


	3. Nanda Parbat Nuptials

**I hope you enjoy this chapter. TinaDay3W encouraged me to write a wedding and a honeymoon. With all of the excitement around Oliver and Felicity finally getting together tonight, I agreed. This first chapter covers the prep and the ceremony. **

**xxxXxxx**

The handmaidens collected Felicity early in the morning, just as the sunrise decorated an unfamiliar horizon. The attendants took her down narrow halls to a small room. There, she was told to disrobe and learned that undergarments would not be a part of her formal attire. Felicity rolled her eyes. Of course, they wouldn't. Next, the women brought out tiny sticks and brushes. With them, they painted tattoos on her flesh. Inquiring how long they would last and learned they would remain on her skin for roughly a week. The quills they used tickled her at first and caused her to squirm, frustrating the artists, until Felicity got used to the feel of them moving across her skin. Excerpts from sacred texts and League symbols were carefully executed on her arms, her back and her belly. She was asked personal questions about her life with Al-Saheem and her words were transformed into scripts and images that were added to her porcelain skin.

Her hair was a whole "thing." After several different fussy hairstyles, she convinced them to leave it down with a top layer gathered in a braid to keep it from flying into a nearby fire. Once the ordeal of the hair was completed, her ink was nearly dry. She was powdered and told to wait for the next step – receipt of her ceremonial costume. As she waited, she admired the brown, flowery patterns of the words and the occasional scandalous placement of images against her paleness.

The ceremonial garment was not the ballerina-style tulle gown that Felicity had imagined for her wedding day. No, what she was swathed in more closely resembled a scarlet shroud. The handmaidens had brought it to the private chamber and presented it to her like it was custom Christian Siriano. She accepted it with a sigh and a quiet sniffle.

Hideous burlap flats. That's what she was wearing today instead of the breathtaking pair of Louboutin wedding shoes she had splurged most of a paycheck on once and tucked in the back of her closet for "one day in the future." Doing the opposite of admiring her feet, she supposed that if a fight broke out, she would at least be able to run faster.

The only thing that made her feel like a blushing bride at the moment was the fact that she was wearing absolutely nothing under the heavy robe. Nothing would cover the artwork that had been applied to her body earlier. So, there she was, going commando and it felt a bit weird. She babbled to the handmaidens about how she usually wore panties and that thongs felt like dental floss, but they simply stared at her. She was grateful now for the hideous sack she was wearing and wished it would smother her.

On the up-side, there were unlikely to be any photos to document the proceedings. She had to keep reminding herself that this ceremony wasn't a real wedding – not in the eyes of the law, anyway. It was still an important ritual though, one that would effectively take their relationship to another level with head spinning speed. She tried not to dwell on it. They would figure things out as they went. Felicity assured herself that being joined with Oliver in this place would enable her to protect him from these people and his own self-destructive tendencies more effectively. The proximity and status of her new role would enable her to bring an end to whole mess…eventually.

After a brief mid-day meal in the chamber, Felicity was led to a library. There, the librarians showed off their extensive collection, which included, rather unexpectedly, erotica. She tried not to appear scandalized as they matter-of-factly flipped through manuscripts illustrating highlights of previous wedding nights. She was told that the women of Nanda Parbat kept the records and that she was to be tasked with chronicling the exploits of Al-Saheem. This meant future visits to the library, which pleased her very much – another opportunity to learn about the nest of vipers they were living amongst.

She headed back to her chamber for a time of quiet reflection gripping a piece of paper with the vows she was to recite during the ceremony. She knew how important it was to reflect well on Oliver and hoped she could deliver the words as perfectly, and with authenticity. Arriving in the room, she found that a curious necklace made from colorful orchids had been left on the table with a note.

Ms. Smoak,

Thea is still asleep, but I know that if she could attend today, my daughter would be happy for you, despite the rather unusual circumstances. Your soon-to-be sister would want you to have flowers, like any other bride. Since carrying a bouquet is not acceptable within League tradition, you might wear this under your garments on behalf of the young woman you have sacrificed so much for and as a reminder that beauty and love can be found in even the harshest places. Oliver is a very lucky man.

MM

Felicity hadn't cried yet today, but now several tears streamed down her cheeks. She had spent the day so far, surrounded by strangers – which felt very wrong for a life-changing occasion. Feelings of fear and concern for Thea had not left her since they had arrived in Nanda Parbat. This was a gesture of respect and kindness she had not expected and only just realized she desperately needed.

Felicity studied her "speech" for an hour, practicing the words until she knew them by heart. When she had it down, she took the paper, along with Merlyn's note, and touched them to a nearby candle, setting them aflame before tossing them in a nearby metal bowl until they were nothing but ash.

As dusk fell, Felicity heard attendants arrive outside the chamber to escort her to the ceremony. She quickly opened her robe and donned the lei, breathing in its sweetness before tucking it out of sight and tightening her sash. Two attendants entered. The hood of her robes was lowered over her face and she suppressed a giggle. The humor of her wearing a hood while committing herself to "The Hood" was not lost on her. She was also excited because she had missed him all day and would finally be able to see him again.

Amusement did not last long. She was brought out into a square illuminated by torches – these people loved their damn torches. From beneath the red robe covering most of her face, she glimpsed faces that were now becoming familiar. Her vantage point, off to the side, enabled her to see a fire pit and two pillars on a raised pedestal in front of the crowd. Ra's strode in and took his place on it.

Merlyn suddenly moved by her side, himself in a black robe, looking more like the Dark Archer than usual. The two made eye contact. He leaned toward her and whispered.

"Whatever happens next must not be interrupted. You may want to cry out for him, but you cannot. Not a sound. Nothing can stop this now. He'll be alright, but he can't be worried about you."

Felicity's eyes grew wide with concern.

Next, Oliver walked in confidently, like a prize fighter ready for a bout. He wore a dark tunic, loose trousers and boots. His eyes burned deep blue in the fire light. Felicity wanted to run to him, but she stood still, understanding that this was not the time or place.

She looked on curiously as the coals of the fire pit were jostled by pokers. Then Ra's took an iron brand with a hook at one end and placed it within the hottest part of the pit. Attendants helped Oliver remove his tunic, leaving him bare-chested. He seemed calm, almost drugged as he stood there on display for the audience of assassins. He had spent much of the day in meditation, readying himself to face the challenge of the ceremony.

Then, Ra's clapped his hands and the attendants swarmed him. When Oliver submitted to being chained to the stone pillars, Felicity finally figured out what was happening. Her eyes darted from his torso, to Ra's, to the brand that was glowing in the fire pit. Her body instinctively tense and moved forward, but Malcolm stopped her, grabbing her hand. She steadied herself and gulped. Then Ra's spoke.

"Tonight we witness the beginning. My heir, moving toward the place I have bestowed on him. The next Demon's Head has been chosen with great care. He will be an exceptional leader. He is a fighter. A survivor. This man will command your respect and earn your loyalty. When we meet here again one month from today, the final ceremony will occur and he will take my place. Tonight begins his transition toward a new life as a new man. We shall first observe his courage and strength. Then he will take his new name, Al-Saheem. And finally, he will take a Consort, signifying his commitment to her and to the League.

Felicity kept her eyes glued to Oliver's face. It concerned her that she could not see any sign of recognition on his face. Then, she saw Ra's pick up the golden brand from the fire. He turned and faced Oliver.

"You accept this without fear. Without pain." Ra's raised the hot iron shape in front of him.

Oliver nodded, the only sign of his consciousness of what was going on. Felicity started to whimper. Malcolm moved behind her. Still holding her hand, he muzzled her with his forearm, and leaned into her ear. "Quiet. If he's distracted by you, he will fail the test."

Felicity blinked tears from her eyes and nodded. He was right. She closed her eyes and heard the sound of hot metal searing his skin, but she heard no sound of Oliver Queen. She smelled burning flesh and willed her turning stomach to refrain from rushing up her throat. At this point, Malcolm was holding her up and she was grateful. It wouldn't reflect well on the new Heir if his Consort passed out during the ceremony. She was expected to be brave.

When she opened her eyes and looked upon her love, there was a 4-inch angry welt opposite his Bratva tattoo. His jaw was tight and his eyes were piercing an unknown point in the distance. He was standing strong, unwavering. Ra's looked on him, appeared satisfied with his handiwork and Al-Saheem's reaction. He handed the brand to an acolyte.

"From today on, you are no longer Oliver Jonas Queen, the son of an ordinary man. You are Al-Saheem, Heir to the Demon's Head. You are the Arrow, sure and steady, deadly and straight. One day all will heed your will or they will feel your wrath."

Merlyn loosened his grip on Felicity before Ra's turned and offered his hand out, summoning her. All eyes were now on her and she suddenly found herself frozen to the spot. Malcolm took her arm and tugged. He began to walk her forward towards the pedestal. It occurred to her that Malcolm Merlyn was basically giving her away. How fucked up was that? She didn't care. The alternative, tripping over her unsteady feet, unassisted, was not acceptable. Reaching the pedestal, Felicity was grateful for her crappy flats as she climbed up. Merlyn stayed behind, leaving her to join Ra's and Oliver on her own.

Oliver was still staring forward. Felicity wondered for a moment if he even knew she was there. Her gaze was drawn back to the fresh red mark that joined so many other signs of abuse on his beautiful body. She had never witnessed anything like this before and she hoped she never would again. Ra's addressed Felicity now, his attention on her.

"You may free him from his bonds, dear. That is your role. " Felicity found his term of endearment weirdly paternal and totally creepy, but nodded and rushed to Oliver's side. She carefully removed the chains from one wrist and lowered his heavy arm, grateful to be able to touch him and hopeful that feeling her hands would give him some comfort. She rushed to the other side and did the same to the other arm, rubbing her hands along his wrists to circulate his blood. The marks on them indicated that while Oliver had made no outward show, he had strained against them at some point, perhaps to distract himself from the pain.

Ra's cleared his throat, reclaiming Felicity's attention. "Examine the mark of the League upon your beloved." Felicity comprehended his order and moved in front of Oliver to get a close look at the brand. Its shape was unusual – some arcane symbol – and it made his skin pucker at its edges.

"You will never know his pain, but you will observe it and understand it. You will heal his wounds. You will minister to his needs. That is what is required. That is your role." Felicity nodded, looking up at Oliver, who only blinked.

"It is time for you to speak." Ra's voice cut through the quiet of the moment. Felicity looked at him. He motioned that she should lower her hood. She complied, but her hands were shaking. She was not a public speaker in the best of times and this was not a meeting of the Toastmasters. She looked over at Oliver and wondered still if he was even present, if he was going to hear what she was saying. She turned her back to the crowd and faced only him.

"Today, I dedicate my life to you, Al-Saheem." She swallowed hard. It was then that Oliver's head slowly dropped. His eyes met hers, creating a feeling of relief. A wave of emotion rolled over her as she drew closer to him. "My friend. My partner. My beloved. This bond I make transcends time." She could see him listening and knew her words were affecting him. "This bond I make defies pain. This bond I make vanquishes death." She looked deeply into his eyes, full of love and hope. "My body is your home. My breath is your breath from this day forward."

Oliver took her hand, his own pressing flat against it. He raised them both up in the manner of an oath. Felicity's back was still to the gathered crowd and she focused solely on the blue eyes looking deeply into hers. She held her breath.

"I am Al-Saheem. Today, I pledge my life to the League of Assassins and I dedicate myself to this woman, Manar." Felicity looked at him quizzically. She was getting a new name as well.

"My partner. My beloved." Oliver's gaze softened and she knew that he was present with her. She felt his love, despite the currently surreal situation. His hand was warm against hers and the pressure of them against each other felt intense. "This bond I make transcends time. This bond I make defies pain. This bond I make vanquishes death." That last word connected with her hard because it was so real. Oliver had died too many times already. He continued, "My body is your home. My breath is your breath from this day forward."

Felicity mouthed the words "I love you" for only him to see. Oliver wrapped his hand behind her neck and drew her close. His mouth crashed into hers in a display of heat and want that would be whispered about for days. Felicity felt it in her bones, moving one hand to stroke his hair and curling the other around his arm. When he finally pulled away, leaving her lungs breathless and her lips thoroughly assaulted, he whispered "Love you," before straightening up and returning to his stoic demeanor.

Felicity smiled. Then she heard the Demon's Head clear his throat. She pivoted around, feeling a little woozy, but a little cocky too. The words they had spoken were real. He was hers now and despite the physical danger that surrounded them, her heart felt safer than it had in a very long time.

Then, Ra's Al Ghul moved toward them and grasped Felicity's small hand with his stubby, callused fingers. She panicked a little, not knowing what he was doing. He produced a silver knife from an unseen pocket and handed it to Oliver. She could see a hint of torment in her lover's eyes as he nodded to Ra's. Oliver took the knife and addressed the delicate hand that Ra's was holding out to him. He made a small cut on the top, near her knuckles, just deep enough to draw noticeable blood. Felicity stifled a whimper, pressing her lips together. Felicity looked into Oliver's eyes and saw that he was troubled by what he had just done.

She cursed in an inner monologue. Of course these bastards would have to incorporate blood in the damned ceremony. Then Oliver raised her hand to his mouth and tasted her wound, all the while keeping eye contact with her. Felicity conceded that it was kind of sexy in a kinky "Twilight" kind of way and decided that while she never wanted to repeat that particular ritual, it was okay this one time.

Ra's reached out and an acolyte handed him a red robe, similar in color to Felicity's, but lacking a sash. He took it and presented it to her. She accepted it, wordlessly, and helped Oliver put it on, carefully trying to avoid contact with his inflamed flesh. She thought for a moment that it was rather cruel to make him wear anything right now, but recalling the current company they were keeping, she kind of understood it.

Felicity allowed herself a moment to consider that he looked handsome in red (even if it reminded her of Roy). Better in green. Sexy in black. Devastating in blue. This man made any color look good.

"And so it is done," Ra's announced. Felicity turned and looked at Ra's as he made a final nod and lowered his arms. Then she looked back at Oliver. That was it. Ceremony over. He looked down at her and pressed his hand to her back.

No applause. No cheering. The crowd quietly dispersed. "Come," Ra's ordered. The newly minted couple looked at him, then each other. They moved to trail behind their host, their captor, Oliver gripping her elbow securely. After a few moments, Felicity couldn't hold her curiosity or her tongue.

"Manar. What does it mean?" she asked.

Before Oliver could speak up, Ra's stated, "It means guiding light. Like a lighthouse."

Felicity looked up at Oliver and he beamed down at her. That was exactly right. Felicity took his hand and kissed it as they continued walking briskly.

"What happens next?" she asked as they moved down a corridor.

"Ah, the orgy," Ra's tossed off, like it was nothing. Felicity sighed at Ra's feeble attempt at humor while Oliver looked worried.

"He's just teasing," Felicity assured him.

"How do you know that?" Oliver murmured. Felicity shook her head.

Ra's finally stopped at a door. He spun around to face them.

"Here is your chamber. Rest. Tend your wounds. You will be collected in 30 minutes for dinner." He looked straight at Oliver, "30 minutes." This, apparently, bore repeating. He opened the door. The two rushed inside. OIiver slammed the door closed and leaned his back against it.

Felicity sprang toward him, desperately worried about the brand on his chest. "Oh my God, Oliver! I can't believe they did that to you." Her hands hovered above his skin. "Are you okay?" He responded by swallowing and looking at the ceiling.

"I would be lying if I said it didn't hurt like a motherfucker. Because it did. It's a little better now." Oliver panted a bit now, coming down from holding all of his emotions in check outside. Felicity noticed some ointment and bandages on a nearby table and pulled him over to join her there for some first aid.

"How did you get through it? I couldn't even watch."

"I went to what you would call my happy place for a while." Oliver dropped his forehead to meet hers. Felicity reached up with her cut hand and raked her fingertips against his stubble.

Oliver stopped her. He grasped her hand and examined the cut, which wasn't bleeding much now.

"Baby, I am so sorry I had to do that. You know I would never hurt you…"

"Oliver, it's okay," she touched his chest gently. "Almost stopped now. I should have known when they put us in red robes that there was going to be blood. I feel kind of dumb for not figuring it out earlier. When you think about it, it could have been much worse."

For the next few minutes, they traded salves and bandages. When they were finished, Oliver wrapped her in his arms. She was careful to avoid pressing against his tender skin.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"I'm used to patching you up."

"I meant thank you for everything. For this. For loving me more than I could possibly…"

Felicity tilted her chin and kissed along his jaw. She rubbed her nose against his playfully and smiled.

He continued, "I want you to know that for me, what I said…I meant every word of it. Do you understand?" his eyes found hers, desperate to be understood.

"Yes. I meant it too, Oliver. I do love you." She felt his mouth on her again, this time soft and gentle. Like the best kisses, it evolved in intensity. Oliver's tongue slipped in and began to make demands. She was happy to comply. Feeling the heat rising, Felicity finally pulled away, gasping for breath.

"How much time do we have left?" she panted.

xxxXxxx

With some encouragement, I could be persuaded to post the next chapter, which picks up right where this one leaves off and gets very steamy. So, let me know.

I am also quiveringbunny on Tumblr.


	4. Lest We Forget the Fern

So, this is a completely NSFW chapter. Hide the kiddies. Grab a glass of wine. Enjoy yourself. You deserve it. Once again, thank you so much for reading.

This chapter is really a continuation of the last one...

**_xxxXxxx_**

_"How much time do we have left?" she panted._

"Ten minutes, maybe," he reached out for her with a grin.

"Oh, that won't be enough time," Felicity grinned.

"I can do a lot in ten minutes," he countered, lasciviously. He threw his robe to the floor and moved toward her with straining hands. Felicity backed away.

"I have no doubt about that," she smiled, happy to be getting past the intensity of the day. "But once you see what's going on under here," she used her hands to present herself like she was a prize on a gameshow, "it will definitely not be enough time."

Oliver's eyes scanned her form, tantalized. His manhood was straining against his breeches now.

"No! That's not fair! You have to show me!"

"Believe me. You are going to lose your mind." Felicity was feeling pretty excited at this point. Tightness tugged at her abdomen. Heat and moisture collected in the right places. Teasing Oliver was so much fun.

"Ah," he cried. "Don't do this to me. Please? I shouldn't have to beg, should I?"

"Oh, I think begging might be a good plan, at this point," she threw him an evil smile as she continued to back up across the room.

"No. Now lose the robe and show me. I will..just…look. I promise." he pleaded, giving her a million dollar Oliver Queen smile and a naughty Boy Scout oath.

Felicity signaled "I'm looking at you" with two fingers. Then she grinned and loosened the sash on her robe. As her garment fell to the ground, so did any resolve Oliver Queen might have had in terms of keeping the promise he made five whole seconds earlier.

She stood in front of him gloriously naked, covered in beautiful patterns, a collection of elegant flowers dangling between her breasts. Her golden hair glowed in the fire light. He was mesmerized.

"Breathe, Oliver," she finally said in her loud voice. It was a good thing too, because he may have forgotten how for a brief time. He inhaled deeply and chuckled. Playboy Oliver Queen was long since dead, but even in his most hedonistic adventures, he never imagined anything like this. Like her.

Felicity wore a triumphant smile now. She hadn't seen Oliver speechless in this way before and she appreciated the reaction. But then he was moving, not around the furniture but over it, through it, until he reached her, actually panting. The look of lust on his face was intense and just a touch scary. He studied her, something primal in his eyes. His hands raked through his hair and he licked his lips.

When he grabbed her wrist and tugged her toward the light Felicity exclaimed, "Touching!"

"I want to see you all of you. I need…" He stopped moving them when she was illuminated brightly by the closest torch. He twirled his finger around, indicating he wanted her to do a spin. He wanted to see all of her. She bit her bottom lip and did a desperately slow turn, making sure he got a good look at the canvas. When she stopped in front of him, his fingers gently, reverently, ran over her skin, eliciting gooseflesh wherever his attentions were at that moment. "So beautiful."

"Mmm," she moaned. "Still touching."

His index finger slid down her throat and continued between her breasts until it reached the bottom of the orchid necklace that hung there. He lifted it up the buds to admire them.

"Nice flowers," he murmured, as he dropped them. He buried his nose and mouth against her neck, smelling the heady fragrance of orchids and her arousal. She rolled her shoulders and offered her breasts. Everything he did, every look he gave her was generating heat. Oliver pressed his mouth to cover her nipple.

"Malcolm Merlyn gave them to me. Is that okay?" she panted. Oliver stopped and looked at her.

A knock at the door interrupted the moment. A voice from the other side stated, "Al-Saheem, your presence is required in the dining hall by Ra's Al Ghul."

Oliver ignored the voice.

"He didn't actually put them on you, right?" he asked, an eyebrow approaching his hairline. Felicity shook her head, laughed and attacked his lips with hers. She sucked his tongue into her mouth and moaned until he started moaning too. Her fingers explored his arm and shoulder muscles as they tensed with excitement. Oliver unbuttoned his trousers. He slid his hands around her soft waist, eventually grabbing her backside and pulling her flush against him.

There was another knock at the door to be ignored.

"Baby, was that a fern I saw on your butt?" he panted as he rubbed his hardness between her wet thighs. Behind her, his fingers touched the area he referred to, playfully. She kicked off her shoes.

Felicity groaned. "Special pictures. They drew meaningful things. I wanted our fern. Oh, Oliver."

His cock was providing friction now and she wanted more. So much more. She reached down between them and rubbed the spot that was most needful.

"What else? Are there other…special pictures?" he growled.

Felicity bit her lip. "Mmm hmm. There's a bow."

"What kind?" he asked before running his teeth softly over her breast.

"What?" she asked, a languid drawl to the question.

"Recurve or compound," he panted.

"It's just a bow, you gorgeous..." She looked down at his eyelashes as he rubbed his cheek against her breasts. How could they be so pretty.

"I didn't see it." He picked her up, supporting her thighs and pressed her against the wall. In a seamless move, he slid inside her and pushed her hands above her head. She let out a yelp, followed by a chuckle of relief. He licked and nibbled her jaw while he waited for her to become accustomed to him.

She panted, arching her back and offering her neck. "Some of them you have to work for." Felicity ground her hips against him, signaling her readiness to move things along.

Oliver slid out. "Felicity." In. "Felicity." Out again. "Felicity."

He was going so slow and she wanted him so fast right now.

"Let me touch you," she whined. Oliver let go of her hands. They dropped to grab his face and pull him to her mouth. She offered the tip of her tongue and he met it with a delicate touch before going in for a penetrating kiss that made her eyes roll back in her head.

"Harder. Please. Harder." She ran her fingers through his hair and he picked up his pace. She cried out his name, which inspired him to put his back into it.

There was another knock at the door. This time, more aggressive.

In the corridor, Malcolm Merlyn paced and waited for a response. He could hear them on the other side, but he had his orders. He finally spoke loudly enough to be heard in between grunts and moans on the other side. "You two. I'm sorry, but Ra's is getting impatient. He isn't the kind of man you – "

Oliver pulled away from Felicity's swollen lips. "Merlyn," he shouted in his deepest growl, "if you don't go away now, I am going to fucking kill you. Then I'm going to throw you in the Lazarus Pit just so I can fucking kill you again."

Malcolm shook his head with an understanding grin. He wiped the sweat from his nervous brow and skulked back down the hallway, anticipating the wrath of Ra's Al Ghul.

Back in the chamber, Felicity was screaming Oliver's name through an orgasm unlike any she could recall. To be honest, it was hearing her lover deploy his Arrow voice that did it. Damn it was sexy. Oliver couldn't hold on any longer after her reaction. He emptied himself into her with a desperate groan. They shuddered together for a few minutes. Felicity wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close as their hearts pounded together.

"My body is your home," she panted.

"My breath is your breath," he murmured in her ear. Oliver encouraged her to relax her legs to stand, but before they settled to the ground he picked her up and carried her to a soft chaise. He sat down and felt her curl into him, sitting across his lap. Together they watched the flickering torches in the room and enjoyed the moment together.

**xxxXxxx**

Oliver dressed first. Then he wrapped Felicity back up in her red robe and cinched her waist tightly with the sash. No other man was getting a glimpse of his painted lady. He combed his fingers through her hair to put it back in place. She kissed his free hand and pulled him towards the door. Oliver smiled one last carefree smile before heading to join Ra's and the rest at the dinner gathering.

"I said it last night. I love breaking rules with you, Felicity."

"I know. We're terrible. And that's saying something in this place." She smiled back at him. When they entered the hallway, they were greeted by a warrior who turned and marched down the hall. He was their guide to find the group.

"You know," she continued, "when we get back, I'm expecting to pick up where we left off.

"And I am completely fine with that."

"Well that's good, because you know, there is a book in this place and as Consort I have to keep a record of, you know, our performance tonight, which may be compared with others."

"Records. That's funny," he chuckled.

"Completely serious."

Oliver tugged on her arm to stop walking.

"Wait. You're serious?" His blue eyes sought an answer in hers. She responded with a nod.

"I may even have to draw pictures."

"Jesus, Baby. You know how insanely competitive I am." Oliver took her hand and resumed their walk down the hall.

"I know. I'm kind of counting on it," she giggled.

xxxXxxx

Thanks so much for reading this chapter. I hope it didn't scandalize you too much. I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you will take a moment to reach out with a comment here or look me up on Tumblr (quiveringbunny).


	5. Multiple Arrows

Here is a bit of post-wedding. Fun. Getting acclimated with the League.

xxXXxx

Wine culled from grapes that grew on sunny hills not far from Nanda Parbat was surprisingly elegant and plummy. Felicity relished the smooth tannins and thoroughly enjoyed a bottomless glass regularly filled by a faceless attendant. It was a surprisingly tasty and effective anesthetic, desperately needed to calm her nerves. She had heard that weddings were usually stressful events, but somehow doubted that Modern Bride ever covered the intensity of a reception attended by actual killers. Still, wine.

Oliver helped too. He never stopped touching her during the evening's festivities. As they sat together at a table for two in the League's hall and the celebration unfolded before them, she always felt some part of his body connected with flesh. His fingers entwined with hers. His mouth against her temple. His arm enveloping her shoulders. Feeling his touch reassured her that their recent vows were real and that she was safe.

The whole affair was strange. Ra's gave them an inscrutable look when they finally arrived, nearly an hour late. The two avoided eye contact with most of the attendees as they entered, although Oliver did see Merlyn and grinned accordingly. Then Ra's announced the couple, Al-Saheem and Manar, and made another serious speech. Afterwards, for "entertainment," League members demonstrated some impressive combat techniques that reminded Felicity of the dance fighting from "West Side Story." An opulent meal was served and Felicity enjoyed a chance to feed Oliver morsels from her plate. He whispered a reminder that he expected her to be dessert via warm breath and small nibbles on her neck.

Then, Ra's approached the table. Felicity observed him warily, her grip tightening in Oliver's hands. First, he blustered to Oliver about tardiness, but forgave him due to the distraction of his lovely bride. Oliver adopted a fake smile and nodded while squeezing his Consort's thigh beneath the table. Ra's then addressed Felicity directly and presented her with a gift. It was a sword with a smaller-than-usual handle, etched with a flower pattern and sporting a deadly blade. Al-Saheem's Consort gingerly examined the shiny metal. "Ooh, this is very sharp. I am used to being around pointy things, but I've never had anything pointy of my own until today."

The ramifications of her current ramble lost on her, Oliver smiled accordingly. Remembering their recent conversation about her lack of fighting skills, Felicity then gave the Demon's Head a shy smile and a nod of acknowledgement. "I'll try not to hurt myself with it," she said aloud, thinking internally that she was grateful to finally be armed in this pit of vipers. The present was unexpected, but what happened next left Oliver quite speechless. Ra's Al Ghul winked. At Felicity. He would have to ask her about it later.

xxXXxx

After the festivities, if you could call them that, Oliver and Felicity were delivered to their new quarters at a very late hour. The chamber was bigger and even more opulent than Oliver's previous accommodations – more befitting his role as Heir, as well as one who had a mate. They were exhausted from the day, so when they entered, the flickering candles drew them quietly to the bed. They peeled off their robes and crawled into the sheets to hold each other and take some well-deserved sleep.

At daybreak, Oliver awoke, expecting to find a lovely woman curled up next to him. His hand felt for warmth, but there was nothing there to touch. He opened his eyes to find Felicity perched in a chair by the bed, swaddled in a white sheet. Warm light streamed through a large window, creating a halo around her soft hair and a glowing effect on the fabric. The flower necklace had broken and petals were strewn across the floor.

"You look like an angel right now."

Felicity blushed. She wasn't used to compliments this early in the day, but she did not mind them. Oliver turned toward her, partially covered by a red satin sheet, and propped his elbow up to look at her. The welt of the brand on his chest looked less inflamed now, but it would take a week or two for it to heal. The image of him reclining there, relaxed and so perfect, would be filed away by Felicity for the rest of her life.

"How does it feel?" she asked, pointing to her chest in the same place Oliver's new scar resided.

"Stings a little. Don't worry." He smiled because her first thoughts were always of his well-being. It made him feel cherished. "I'm imagining what you'll look like in a white dress, Felicity. One day. Soon."

She smiled broadly at the idea.

"Don't you think the red wedding shroud might catch on? It is much easier to remove."

"True. I hope you weren't disappointed last night. We didn't even get to…dessert. I was just so wiped out," Oliver looked a little sheepish.

"So was I," she smiled. "But, you know, I'm thinking it's still last night back in Starling City…"

"God, I love you. So brilliant."

Oliver's lips turned up and he motioned for her to return to the bed with a wave of his hand. Felicity needed no further encouragement. She got up and unfurled the sheet from around her, once again revealing the mysterious images temporarily covering her soft curves. Oliver licked his lips in anticipation. She tossed the fabric over Oliver and the bed. Felicity crawled onto the firm mattress and fluffed the sheet over them dramatically, letting it cover their heads.

"I love you too."

Oliver moved around under the fabric, eliciting a giggle that shook the bed. Felicity looked down and found him kneeling naked between her ankles. The sheet still covered them both like a thin tent.

"This reminds me of when Tommy and I would make forts with blankets and chairs in the backyard."

"Really," she quirked her brow. "Forts with Tommy? This reminds you of that."

Suddenly Oliver's neck responded, ending his nod "yes" and replacing it with a shake "no." There was, after all, a naked woman involved in this current scenario and he and Tommy should have been so lucky.

Sensing it was time to stop sharing, Oliver bent down to study and lavish attention on her breasts as she gripped the sheets beneath her tightly. He planted his hands on either side of her ribs and lowered his mouth to tease her nipples mercilessly with the tip of his tongue. Felicity knew that she was making enough noise to be heard by the "neighbors," but she didn't care.

After thoroughly mouth mapping of her breasts , Oliver turned his attentions south to her legs. It appeared he had a process. First, he studied the scrolled writings and drawings on an area of skin, then he nuzzled it with his jaw and kissed the spot before moving on. He was on a mission.

"Oliver, what are you doing?"

"Making love to you, Felicity. Exploring."

"Find what you're looking for yet?" she panted.

"Hmm," he murmured, taking a break from worship. He advanced between her legs with a twinkle in his eye. "Special pictures, remember? I'm just an archer looking for his..." Felicity's eyes grew wide and her excitement spiked. Oliver grasped her knees and spread her thighs wide, which coincided with his smile. "Ah, there it is." Oliver hiked her legs over his shoulders and plucked his new favorite bow with his lips and teeth. He was leaving marks all around her soft skin, but she didn't really care. What he was doing made her moan and twist her hips in search of more pressure.

Then he stopped. Felicity caught his eye and watched him move closer, his handsome face stopping at her entrance. She instinctively tensed up. He was…Right. There. Breathing. He tilted his eyes toward her and his expression effectively conveyed an entire collection of impure thoughts. After several moments, Felicity was the first to break.

"Are you waiting for me to do something?"she started babbling. "You are making me feel so…I kind of forgot to talk. How about that?" A few seconds later, Oliver drove his tongue exactly where she wanted it.

xxXxx

"Bullseye," she whispered into his chest. "Multiple…arrows."

Oliver was thoroughly tangled up in his consort's limbs and they had been consorting quite effectively all morning. He spoke into her hair while running his fingers through it.

"Good. Write it all down." He looked smug, deservedly so. When it came to making Felicity Smoak feel like the most loved woman in the world, he was feeling pretty successful so far.

"Even that part when I used my mouth to…" she grinned.

"Well, maybe not that part, Baby. Who knows who reads those library books?"

"You don't want the other Assassins to find out your Consort is a nymphomaniac with mad bedroom skills?" Oliver pulled her tight against him.

"Things are dangerous here, Felicity. And I know you don't realize it, but you are amazing. The kind of woman that men can't help wanting and falling in love with." Felicity buried her face in his shoulder, planting light kisses across his skin. "Do you understand that? But you're mine now and I need to keep you safe."

"I am. I want to keep you safe too."

"Hey, what happened with Ra's last night? Did he wink at you? Should I be worried, Baby?" Oliver feigned jealousy.

Felicity nipped at the skin above his Bratva tattoo. "Oh yeah, he's a real dreamboat."

xxXXxx

Around mid-day, Oliver suited up in the black uniform of a League member to begin accelerated training. He and Felicity separated with a delicious kiss that would be worth remembering for the rest of the day. She watched Oliver head toward the door, his jaw set and his eyes made hard. He became Al-Saheem before crossing the threshold. Felicity winced inwardly and couldn't wait to end his terrible burden.

The Consort donned a grey tunic and leggings and headed to the chamber where Thea was still unconscious. She had promised Oliver that she would check on his sister whenever possible, but it also ended up being an excellent way to meet with Merlyn far from prying eyes. Felicity slipped into the room and found him reading "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" aloud. She approved. The girls in the story were strong. This was a way of telling Thea to find her own strength and come back to them. When Malcolm noticed she had entered, he stopped, slipped a mark in the book and placed it on a nearby table.

"How is she doing today? Oliver is going to try to come by later." Felicity approached the young woman – the sister she wasn't sure she'd ever have – and touched her face lightly.

"She is still the same, "Mrs. Queen." Merlyn's eyes seemed watery all the time since they Felicity was attacked. Felicity had only just noticed.

"I'm not…Mrs. Queen."

"Maybe not legally, but in every other sense." Merlyn got up from his chair and reached for a box. He offered it to her. Felicity stepped away from the bed and took the box.

It was heavy, forcing her to set it down. "What's this?" She lifted the lid and found a tunic crafted of thin metal inside.

"It's mail. Wear it under your clothes. An extra layer of protection until you can take care of yourself better."

"Thank you. And, uh, thank you for yesterday. You helped me. You helped us."

It wasn't easy for Felicity to say anything kind to him. Merlyn turned his back to her so she could doff her tunic and slip the mail on underneath before redressing. It was a shapeless garment, but it looked like it could make a difference.

"Next time, bring that sword that Ra's gave you. I can start teaching you how to use it here. No one will see you or suspect anything."

"I will," she said quietly, her eyes returning to Thea. "They are waiting for me at the library now. Let me know if she needs anything. Oliver will make sure that she gets it. I'll make sure."

Merlyn turned back to face her. "Thanks. Be careful, Mrs. Queen." Felicity adopted a tiny smile as she headed out the door.

xxXXxx

That night, Oliver returned to their chamber quite late. He slipped through the door to find his beloved napping in a chair beside a tray of food. His gruff demeanor immediately softened. She had that effect on him, even while sleeping. He slipped out of his uniform and into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before kneeling barefoot beside her chair and laying his head in her lap. He closed his eyes and felt peace.

Felicity woke and happily slipped her fingers into his hair to lightly scratch his scalp. It soothed them both. Oliver smiled for the first time in hours. "Felicity. How was your day."

"I missed you."

"Me too." Oliver turned his head and noticed a change in the room, his eyes trailing from the floor to the ceiling. "Hey, where did that come from?"

"Kind of a wedding gift, except since it wasn't a real wedding, so maybe it's just a plain old gift," Felicity frothed as Oliver wrapped his arms around her waist. She planted kisses slowly on his close cut hair. "Maybe I should have gone with monogrammed towels, but you have so many names now."

Oliver Queen looked up at her for a moment, then glanced back at the salmon ladder that had been installed in a corner of the room while he was gone.

"I thought it might be nice if you could keep up some routines you're used to. Doing that seems to help relax you when you're stressed." She ran her fingers along his muscular neck until she reached his back. She ran her fingers underneath his shirt, hoping some attention make him forget his day.

"Thank you." Oliver Queen raised himself up and looked straight at her, his blue eyes twinkling. "Fe-li-ci-ty."

"Yes, Oliver?" She smiled.

"It's really a gift for you, isn't it?"

Felicity let a blush take over her cheeks. "I never get tired of watching you do that."

xxXXxx

Well, what did you think of that one? Is the story building well enough for you?

Don't forget to say hi on tumblr... I am quiveringbunny there.


	6. The Consort Networks

Seven days. It had been seven days since the ritual that joined Felicity and Oliver, and the IT Girl was finally going to get to see what the League of Assassins had under the hood, technology-wise. Felicity had been desperate to get started since Ra's had mentioned the possibility, but she had to remain cool and wait. Pursuing it, asking about it, would have tipped her hand. She was just grateful that Ra's had sent someone to the chamber that morning to escort her to the League's digital command center.

Yesterday had been a bad day. It had started like any other in recent memory. They had routines. Snuggling in the morning, breakfast together, and then heading their separate ways for the day. She had proceeded to the library to scan the books, as she did every day for a time. They knew her there now. Her second visit had been the most awkward, as she was compelled by tradition to add a citation in a journal about the consummation of their union. Theirs had not been some arranged affair, dispassionate and clinical. They were a real couple with a deep connection. It was difficult to share something so personal, but she might have been a little pleased to scandalize the League librarians with a few extra details of Al-Saheem's prowess. One clerk in particular, Adil, who seemed like the clerk who had been there the longest, might have smiled from beneath her mask. Felicity took that as a win.

After that first day, things had been easier. She was mostly left to her own curiosity and set about learning what she could in the books. But after her library visit in the morning and an afternoon of what she called "sparring" and Malcolm called "running away too much," Felicity returned home and waited several hours for Oliver to return. When he finally entered the chamber, Felicity immediately sensed a problem. Usually, Oliver brightened when he came through the door. He would sigh loudly, as if expelling the air in his lungs exorcised Al-Saheem from his body. But there was no breath, no freeing gasp. Felicity saw exhaustion and emptiness in her lover's eyes as he slowly trudged across the room to lower himself onto the chaise. Felicity rose and headed toward him. Only then did she see his hands, his forearms, covered in blood.

It wasn't his own blood, of course, and Oliver wasn't concerned with the dark stains covering his flesh and caked around his fingernails. He was just looking at the wall, as if there was a projection of the day running on a continuous loop. Everything in Felicity wanted to rush to his side immediately, but a voice in her head counseled restraint. Instead, she got a basin and filled it with water, then brought it, along with some towels, to the chaise. She kneeled down in front of him, regarding him with love and concern.

"Here," Felicity said, carefully taking one of his hands, slowly and deliberately. Oliver didn't make eye contact with her. He didn't pull away either as she used a wet cloth to wipe off the blood, first from his arms, then his hands, then each of his fingers. After she had cleaned everything, she didn't stop touching him. Instead, she started massaging his hands, his fingers, like the manicurists did at her nail salon. She remembered back to the first manicure she ever got, back in Las Vegas with her mother. How surprisingly good it felt to be touched that way. How relaxing it was to feel the pressure on her joints, how the stimulation released her tension. She hoped that was what Oliver was feeling now. If anyone needed a release from something right now, it was him. When it came time to press down on the muscle between his thumb and index finger, a spot she always found tense herself, she said his name.

"Oliver. You're okay." On that, his eyelids slammed shut. Felicity continued to rub his wrists and tug at his fingers. When she began kneading the fleshy pad on the heel of Oliver's right hand, he groaned and opened his eyes enough for a tear to escape. He erased it from his cheek with his free hand, and then dropped it to touch Felicity's face. He looked down as she turned to kiss his palm and took in a deep breath then ended up stuttering as he exhaled. She covered his hand in hers and continued motion across it. The massage was working to release whatever toxic thoughts had filled his mind, but he was obviously very vulnerable.

"I am so sorry you had a horrible day," she said quietly, rubbing circles on the inside of his wrists, which seemed so much bigger than hers right now.

"I don't want to," he whispered. "I didn't mean to…"

"You are a good man, Oliver. Please don't forget that. Whatever you did today, it wasn't something you would have done – you did it to protect us."

When Felicity stood up, he immediately wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face against her softness. He groaned as she dragged her fingers through his short hair, scratching the top of his head.

"It's getting harder each day to fight this, Felicity. I feel like I'm losing myself. Sometimes I forget who I am…that I'm pretending."

Felicity tugged his chin up to face her. She looked down with love and understanding, holding back her own tears. "I know it's hard. But I know you can do this. You've survived so much already. You are stronger than you know, Oliver. And you already know how crazy strong I am for both of us." Oliver nodded at her with a little smile that made her feel infinitely better. "We've got this." She leaned down and kissed his forehead.

The rest of the night they held each other. Felicity played the "vacation game" where they took turns pitching ideas for where they would go together once their ordeal was over. It wasn't an easy game. Islands and beaches were out. Moscow was definitely out. Nothing associated with Vegas was relaxing. And now any place with exotic minarets was out. On this occasion, she suggested they get a car and drive through the wine country north of San Francisco, stopping at random bed and breakfasts, hiring a limo to drive them around to the wineries so they could enjoy themselves freely, and eating in amazing restaurants every night. No agenda, just meandering through Napa. Oliver Queen approved of this scenario and went to sleep dreaming of Felicity holding his hand at a café table, an open bottle of wine, rows of grape vines stretching out to the horizon. Felicity shared a similar dream, although the wine and the scenery were absent. She was simply holding his hand and they were free.

xxXXxx

Felicity Smoak, IT Girl extraordinaire, had sweaty palms - actual hands, legitimately slick with nervous perspiration. It got worse as she was handed off to a League member named Fedil. The older man led her through several heavy doors at the edge of the enclave. As they walked, she noted that he walked with an odd gait, a sort of limp. It occurred to her that a wounded man might not have a place in the League if he did not provide some valuable service beyond fighting. Fedil currently ran IT. Felicity made a mental note, appreciating that any detail she might learn on her explorations could have value.

MIT's most dangerous graduated got excited, hearing an electronic hum emanating from the final chamber. Then she entered and all expectations were obliterated. The digital nerve center of the League of Assassins turned out to be…okay. Not worthy of a James Bond villain, but it wasn't a high school computer lab either.

There was no need for it to be large. As Felicity learned during her indoctrination into the department, it was only used for gathering intel on enemies of the League, communicating with their network of spies and managing resources, like transportation and equipment. They had a basic server room, reasonably new monitors and several powerful desktop boxes. Her set up Arrow Cave was far superior, but this one could work with a few enhancements.

Of course, she made no disparaging remarks to Fedil. She knew the value of impressing him and staying on his good side. As she studied the system, he hovered over her, trying to explain things he assumed she didn't understand. Since earning his trust was vital and might result in more relaxed supervision, she remained respectful and complimentary. Now it was time to try to make a good impression.

"These are good processors," she remarked after checking one of the systems. "But what you are doing here is important. You deserve better." That was something Fedil agreed with, so he nodded appreciatively. "It can't be easy to access the Internet up here."

"We have access to a satellite network," Fedil gloated, as if he had invented it.

"Of course. I guess the cable guy is pretty far away," she replied with a sarcasm that was rarely heard in Nanda Parbat. At the same time, she was fist pumping in her head. Satellites were her friends.

Fedil was just about to speak when Ra's Al Ghul entered. Felicity sucked in a breath and noticed that the League's IT man, previously looming beside her, rose to attention and appeared frozen with fear.

"Manar," Ra's growled, removing his gloves. He nodded to acknowledge his senior man without a word and turned his attention to the monitors. "You have reviewed our systems?"

"Just physical ones, so far. Your people here are doing quite a bit with very little, if you ask me. And you kind of just did…ask me. If you are willing to consider a few hardware upgrades, I think we can make your database faster so you can, you know, assassinate or whatever, more efficiently. But that's just one side of things. You can't gather information and run your organization without reliable communications systems. I still need to look at the efficiency of the packet data that's carried on your satellite connection. It would be helpful to see your VSAT terminal and the antenna size. Also, are there redundancies and do you know if it's a symmetrical service?" This time Felicity was babbling deliberately, hoping to impress her captor, or drive him out of the room out of sheer boredom.

Ra's looked at her like she asked him about a weekend at Disneyland. Then he sort of smiled and patted her on the shoulder. The touching, although completely platonic, freaked her out. "Fedil, it appears that Al-Saheem's bride is going to be a formidable asset. She helped the Arrow run a very successful covert operation for a number of years and I think she can add much to your group."

"Yes, we are very fortunate," Fedil nodded a little too hard.

"And in two days' time," Ra's continued, "she will demonstrate her digital command capabilities." Felicity snapped her head to look at him. "That's right, dear. Al-Saheem will be leading a strike team and you will provide digital support to his endeavor from here. I may assume that you are up to the task?"

Felicity's mind splintered into a number of different reactions at once. She was pleased she would be able to help Oliver, happy that Ra's was trusting her already to do a job, worried about whatever mission Oliver was being sent on and concerned that the equipment on hand wasn't good enough to help her provide adequate assistance to help Oliver if he needed it. Also, she was very nervous.

"Y-yes. Of course. Thank you for the opportunity to serve. I wonder, if I provide a list, could we maybe get some things to improve our field support?" She tried to feign a smile at the end to keep things friendly.

"Well, how could we deny anything to lovely Manar?" he said warmly. Felicity immediately wondered if such talk would be considered sexual harassment in a normal organization. Of course, these people and their robes and torches were not likely to conduct sensitivity training on such matters. "By all means, submit your shopping list, dear."

On that, Ra's exited. Off to terrify some other League department, Felicity imagined. Housekeeping perhaps, for forgetting to leave the mint on his pillow last night. She snorted a little at the idea before recalling the Fedil was still in the room. She supposed that he had never seen Ra's treat anyone in such a fashion before. This would explain the curious look that he was giving her now. She thought it best to avoid speaking of it, so a distraction should be implemented.

"Fedil, would you please show me your satellite network terminal? Then, let's sit down and make that list. I suspect you have some thoughts on improvements. Perhaps there are some things you would like to add?" As different as she and Fedil might be, she knew that the fastest way to connect with an IT guy was through a shared love of toys. This was how Felicity would gather together some of the tools necessary for disassembling the League of Assassins. That Ra's was going to pay for them made it all the more sweet.

xxXXxx

Oliver had hardly crossed the threshold of their quarters that night before Felicity launched herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck. She was bubbling over with excitement and her enthusiastic desire to communicate the details of her day instantly exorcised Al-Saheem from the chamber for the evening. He loved the way her blue eyes shimmered in the light. Her hopefulness kept him alive. The cream colored silk shift she wore took his breath for a moment.

Like she was made of delicate paper, he carried her to bed and cradled her in his lap. He stroked her hair as she recounted her day in the IT department and her encounter with Ra's. He listened carefully as she explained that they would be working on a mission together later in the week and that their situation was finally improving. Her plan was coming together.

"Ra's kind of likes you, I think. It's a bit disturbing." Oliver chuckled and planted a kiss on her neck. Felicity giggled.

"I know. He keeps calling me dear. It's weird."

"You're are just irresistible, baby." Oliver peppered her mouth with small kisses.

"You know, I'm getting kind of used to that."

"What? Me calling you Baby?" he smiled with his eyes and softly brushed his lips against hers.

"I didn't think I was the kind of girl anybody would call baby. Not with a straight face anyway." Felicity pushed her hands underneath his robe. "I like it."

"You're so remarkable. So sweet. I just wish I could spend every day here in this room with you. Baby."

Oliver moved Felicity, placing her down on the bed. She looked up at him, unable to stifle a blissful smile as he pulled off his robe. She always loved seeing him unencumbered by clothes, but lately she was particularly pleased to see him strip away anything associated with the League. He smiled back playfully and lowered himself on top of her.

"But, I don't have a pet name for you yet. I've been thinking about it. Trying them on in my head. Muffin. Darling. Sweetie. Pookiebear. All completely terrible. Maybe you could pick something out?"

"I just like hearing you say my name, Felicity," he whispered as he pressed his body against hers.

"Oliver," she responded, melting under the heat of his body.

"I also like it when you moan my name." He growled that one, unexpectedly. Felicity found herself really liking 'unexpected'.

"Oliver," she reacted, seeking out skin to kiss.

"But lately I just love hearing you scream my name," he whispered.

Felicity guided his mouth to her breast and he began worshiping it, greedily. If she was going to make him happy tonight, they really needed to get busy.

xxXXXxx

**Thank you so much for reading! I hope that you are enjoying the story. Please do share comments. The encouragement means so much. **


	7. The Consort is Tested

**Thank you so much for your kind and encouraging responses to this story so far. In this chapter, things heat up in a variety of ways. I hope that you enjoy it. It gets pretty steamy, so...**

**xxxXXXxxx**

"What passes for coffee in this place is not actually coffee. It's more like tea steeped in aggression," Felicity groaned as she sped into Merlyn's chamber and dropped a mug on a table in front of the Dark Archer. She never stopped moving, heading into the next room to check on Thea while gripping her own steaming beverage.

Her daily visits were becoming routine now and Malcolm actually looked forward to the disruption. His quarters got pretty quiet with Thea in her current state.

Felicity would disappear into the adjacent space where Thea continued to sleep away the effects of the Lazarus Pit and talk to the girl for 30 minutes. Merlyn heard her sometimes, babbling about an Arrow adventure she had supported, recounting a shopping excursion she had been on that involved "amazing" shoes or telling a fantasy story that initially impressed him with her creativity, until he realized they were disjointed highlights from "Firefly." It didn't matter. She just wanted Thea to know that she was loved and hoped that the young woman would return to them when her mind and body were healed.

After visiting with Oliver's sister, her almost sister-in-law (whoa), Felicity would return to Malcolm for a training session. She dressed in a tunic befitting her station while she trained – Malcolm had insisted that she wear her every day garb so that she would be comfortable fighting in it. She found the sartorial choice depressing, but she didn't question it. Survival came first.

Each day, she was expected to drill, showing him all of the moves she had learned so far using the sword Ra's had given her. After demonstrating her current level of "marginal adequacy," Malcolm would engage Felicity in mock combat, testing her abilities further and determining a weakness that could be exploited. Then he would show her a new technique that would address her vulnerability. She was expected to practice back in her own chamber until the next lesson.

When it came to combat, Felicity was no Thea. Where his daughter was a fearless tiger, genetically gifted with agility and survival instincts, Felicity was a thinker. She excelled at tactical analysis, but Malcolm constantly had to remind her that an opponent could kill you if you spent too much time in your own head. Al-Saheem's Consort was also tentative and seemed afraid of injuring her opponent. Once again, Merlyn considered that Thea had been a young and very angry student when she began her training. Felicity was a completely different woman, more mature and empathetic toward people. He counseled her that her thoughtfulness might get her killed. She nodded, as she always did, and then resumed her practice.

**xxXXXxx**

After training with Malcolm, Felicity made her way to the Digital Command Center for the afternoon. Every time she passed a member of the League, they nodded to her, in deference to Al-Saheem. It was a little weird, but probably not so different than the attention Westerners gave Oliver Queen when he was a billionaire. There, Fedil apprised her on the status of system software upgrades she had recommended. Together, they discussed the mission she was to support the next day.

Al-Saheem and a small team would proceed to a remote location during the earliest hours of the morning. Felicity would be summoned to man the comms several hours later, while it was still dark. She would assist them in taking an oil platform. It was piracy, plain and simple – something the League dabbled in from time to time. Oil platforms were valuable targets for piracy. Their owners always paid handsomely and never reported the incursions, averse to international attention. So even the League had financial needs, she surmised. Felicity was grateful that she didn't have to support a straight forward assassination this time. She didn't want Oliver to have to kill anyone if he could help it. She only hoped the technology they had on hand would be enough. She was worried about all of the new variables she could not control from her chair in the Arrow Cave.

**xxXXXxx**

The sun was setting low in the west when Felicity negotiated the rocky narrow pathway back to their chamber in the early evening. A salmon-colored sky peeked through the buildings above her. She looked up for a moment and allowed herself to think it was pretty, but she ended up stumbling out of her boot.

"Damn it," she muttered, bending down suddenly. This happened to be the same moment when a dark figure stepped out from a recessed doorway and swung a sword toward her neck. Felicity felt the breeze and heard the metal cut through the air above her head. She screamed loudly and quickly rolled on the ground, trying to stay down and elude her attacker. Snippets of the defensive training she had been practicing kicked in. The mysterious figure advanced toward her, but she managed to get her footing and pull her sword from beneath her robes.

"You are an outsider." A woman's voice surprised her at first, but she realized that the build of her attacker was a bit smaller than a typical League member. The woman's face was mostly covered, but her voice and eyes conveyed hatred. "You are not deserving of Al-Saheem. You are common and weak." The woman teased Felicity with the tip of her sword. Felicity kept her own weapon raised in defense.

"What? This is because you don't think I'm good enough for him?" she cried out, incredulousness overwhelming her. "Sweetheart, you have no idea what you are talking about." Felicity wanted to slow things down in hopes that someone would come to her rescue. She swayed from side to side, trying to stay loose. "Laurel. McKenna. Crazy Helena. Isabel fracking Rochev. That was just after the island. But he chose me. Me. I am Manar."

The woman lunged at her and Felicity deflected the blade awkwardly.

"Al Saheem is my friend. My partner. My beloved. Our bond transcends time," she panted.

The IT girl couldn't move fast enough when her aggressor swung at her arm and managed to strike her right arm.

Felicity screamed in pain and retreated backwards, resisting the urge to drop her sword and baby her bleeding arm. She could do that later, after she survived. It was then she realized she wasn't scared. She was angry. Fracking place. Fracking assassins. Fracking rituals. Fracking Ra's Al Ghul. She really had enough. She had plans. Important plans. And this event was not going to ruin them.

"Our bond defies pain, bitch. Our bond vanquishes death," Felicity bit her lip, holding herself together. She thought of Oliver and the many blows and scars he had endured since becoming the Arrow. She could do this. It was then that she heard footsteps and shouting heading toward their position. Felicity hoped they would arrive soon because her injured arm was hurting and her sword was feeling heavy all of a sudden.

"Death will come sooner than you think," the other woman spat, lunging toward the blonde. Felicity moved away as quickly as she could, using a move Malcolm had taught her on her third day of training.

A moment later, several members of the League rushed onto the scene and took down Felicity's attacker, divesting the woman of her sword and throwing her to the ground. Felicity crumpled, partly due to pain, but mostly out of relief.

**xxXXXxx**

Malcolm Merlyn met Felicity as she arrived back at the chamber door. Her tunic was torn and smeared with the same blood that dotted her face. The Dark Archer masked his concern with a stoic look until she sent her rescuers away with awkward handshakes of thank you. With the door closed, Malcolm urged her to sit.

"Oliver was training off site, but he's been informed and he's headed back," he stated clearly, heading quickly to a makeshift minibar in the corner and pouring a goblet of red wine. "Soon." He nodded and she mirrored him. "Let me see your arm," he stated, handing her the drink. She took a swig and grasped it tightly with her good hand.

Merlyn crouched down to her level. Felicity turned toward him and forced herself to look at the wound as well. She saw the bloody fabric, a two-inch cut in the forearm of her tunic and a one-inch cut in the chain mail undershirt Malcolm had given her beneath it. She had worn the garment every day since he had presented it to her and today it had likely saved her arm.

"Just a scratch," he stated, drolly, waiting for her to protest. Felicity did not disappoint as he produced a packet from his pocket containing bandages, tape and disinfectant.

"Do you think it will leave a scar?" she pleaded. "All my dresses are sleeveless," she continued, sucking down the wine at a brisk rate. Merlyn smirked and shook his head.

"I think you will survive."

"What about that crazy lady? What was she thinking, attacking me like that?"

"A fanatic. Don't worry," his tone became somber. "She won't be bothering anyone again."

Felicity met Merlyn's eyes and understood.

"She's dead."

"Yes," he responded coolly.

"Because she attacked me," Felicity winced from the thought, as well as her current discomfort.

"In part. No one can attack the Consort. The punishment would be swift. But Ra's executed her himself because he considers you an important asset now and compromising your safety would compromise Al-Saheem's success."

"Ra's k-killed her himself?"

"Those were the whispers as I made my way here. You know the gossip mill that fuels this place."

"I kind of preferred it when all they had to gossip about was my sex life."

Malcolm snorted as the door flew open. Al-Saheem stalked in and slammed the door closed, but it was Oliver who focused his gaze on Felicity, strode over, and dropped to his knees next to her. He gently held her face in his palms and focused his blue eyes on hers.

"Are you okay?" Oliver studied her and then his eyes darted up to get confirmation from Merlyn.

"Just a cut. You can handle it." Malcolm's statement compelled Oliver to begin scanning her. It only took a moment to notice her wound. He moved closer to study it and nodded.

"Right. It's not so bad," Oliver agreed.

"Hey," it's not like I scraped my knee or something," she cried out. "A crazed bitch with a sword tried to lop my head off so you could become a lonely widower. What is it with you and loony chicks?"

"She might be onto something there, Oliver." Malcolm smirked. Oliver gave him a harsh glance before rolling his eyes.

"I heard you held your own," Oliver spoke quietly to his girl.

"I tried."

"Felicity was right. She didn't have to be a warrior. She just needed to be better than expected." Merlyn started moving towards the door.

Oliver took a cleansing breath and swallowed, his lips pursed tight. "I will ask Ra's to delay tomorrow's mission." Felicity perked up and shook her head.

"Bad idea," Malcolm remarked curtly, lingering by the door. "That would be perceived as weakness."

"He's right, Oliver," she swallowed, "it's important that you go on the mission as planned."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. He wasn't fully aware of Felicity's machinations, but he knew better than to question any of her plans.

"Come on, Baby," he tugged at her tunic, grateful for the first time that the fabric was thick. "Let's get you out of this so I can fix your cut."

Felicity audibly sighed and started to move to pull her top off.

"Malcolm, I think you can leave now," Oliver's voice approached Arrow-depth.

The Dark Archer took his cue and grabbed the door handle.

"Malcolm," Felicity piped up, causing him to pause. Felicity looked at him, a mixture of exhaustion and relief on her face. "Thank you. I probably wouldn't have survived today…" she trailed off. The older man nodded, looking from Felicity to Oliver's face.

"I'll expect to see you back for training the day after tomorrow." With that, Malcolm disappeared out the door.

**xxXXXxx**

After Oliver bandaged Felicity's arm, he wrapped her in a soft robe. The anxiety of her day began to recede and the two spoke at length about the oil rig mission. It was vital that they understand each other's goals so that they would be in synch the next day. A modest supper was served in their chambers and they enjoyed it along with loving glances across their small dining table.

Oliver watched his girl intensely peel an orange for dessert, carefully removing every piece of rind as she was finally able to tell him the details of the attack. The sky that reminded her of a summer lipstick color. Her surprising anger. Her thoughts of him. The vows she recited to her attacker. Oliver looked on her with pride. Felicity had been tested and exceeded even her own expectations.

He surprised her by moving quickly around the table and scooping her into his arms. She held onto the fruit as Oliver nuzzled her neck and walked her across the room to the bed. She giggled as Oliver placed her so that her head was nestled in the pillows. He crawled up to kneel between Felicity's legs and stripped off his tunic. Her eyes took him in and she wondered aloud if he had possibly become more handsome today than he had been yesterday. He grinned her compliment and carefully removed her glasses and placed them out of harm's way.

Oliver then snatched the orange she was still clutching. He waved it at her before splitting it open and pulling off a single wedge. When he seductively placed the fruit between his lips, the IT girl's brainwaves flattened. She watched him position himself between her legs before placing his palms on either side of her head. Then, his biceps flexed as he slowly lowered himself toward her face. Achingly slow. Felicity held her breath as Oliver's eyes twinkled and the orange slice approached her open mouth. She received her seducer's offering with a grateful moan. The cool pulpy citrus exploded as they feasted on each other's lips, teeth and heated tongues.

As Felicity's robe was tugged open, the silky fabric teased across her nipples and the night air did the rest. Oliver peeled off another wedge and hand-fed it to her as he slipped his mouth onto a delightfully raised nipple. Her hips strained forward to rub against him as he murmured "I love you" against her puckered skin. Felicity caressed the back of his head with one hand and grasped his feeding hand with the other. After swallowing the fruit she licked and suckled Oliver's fingers. She felt his straining crotch make contact with her desperate center and she bucked against him involuntarily.

Oliver's free hand wasn't exactly free. He slipped his hand across her soft abdomen and stopped when he reached her panties. His explored between her thighs, pressing and rubbing until he couldn't hold back any longer and tore the fabric away.

"Oliver!" she cried out.

"I'm sorry," he panted, moving his attention to her other breast, rubbing his cheek against her sensitive skin.

"No, it was hot. Fuck."

"I almost lost you." He slid two desperate fingers into her and heard her gasp. "I can't lose you. Not now. Not ever." The sensation was almost so intense that she didn't feel the wetness dropping onto her collarbone as moved his face up to meet hers again.

Felicity bucked into Oliver's prospecting hand. "Oh," she whined. "Please." She felt his fingers respond aggressively to her plea just as his lips met hers for a kiss that conveyed breathless need.

"More. Oliver." With closed eyes she reached down to free him from his pants. OIiver Queen groaned loudly as she freed his cock, so sensitive now that even her soft touch felt like too much stimulation. He quickly folded her legs up, enjoying the sensation of her small feet pressed against his chest. He watched her intently as he pushed into her entrance. He watched her take in a sharp breath and surround him. When she smiled up at him he knew that it was time to move. He moved in short, deliberate strokes. Or tried to, at least. She responded with quiet cries and occasional shouts that compromised his dwindling self-control. Neither one of them lasted long after that.

A few hours later, still the middle of the night, Oliver redressed for battle. He left a lingering kiss on her shoulder and then her mouth before pulling the covers up over her exposed skin.

"I love you, Oliver," he heard her whisper as he moved away from the bed, Soon after, Al-Saheem exited the chamber.

**xxXXXxx**

**I hope that you enjoyed chapter 7! Please do share your thoughts if you have a moment. Love to know if things are working. Thanks so much for taking the time to read. **


	8. The Consort in Stealth Mode

**Felicity has a chance to plant the seeds to her plan.**

**xxXXXxx**

"Have you taken control?" Felicity used her serious, commanding voice to inquire through the comm link.

There was static on the line. Today's operation appeared to be proceeding like a worst-case scenario in the Arrow Cave – one where things didn't sound very good on the other end and she was powerless to do anything but listen. The League of Assassins team operation to take an oil platform for ransom, led by Al-Saheem, was well underway, but something wasn't right. Felicity studied her monitors, had been providing some useful intel, such as long distance video from an orbiting satellite. But now she had no video feed from the incursion. She tapped on buttons anxiously, trying to re-establish picture.

The mission had begun quite routinely. Of course, Felicity had worried anyway. Oliver and watercraft didn't really have a good track record. Had he even been on a boat since the Queen's Gambit? It hadn't occurred to her to ask in advance and she felt bad about that. If there was any residual tension about the mode of transportation, Al-Saheem masked it with other tension, reflected in his steely glare as the 8-man crew approached the target in a sleek black cigarette boat. Daylight was just about to break as they sped toward the platform owned by McMaster Oil against the choppy sea. Already hard to spot from above, they cut the engines and moved closer.

The security team patrolling on the platform was spare and lackadaisical. Likely the crew had been out at sea for some months and tedium had lowered their attentiveness. They were taken out by arrows from a distance away. Then, Al-Saheem and his men, soaked from sea spray, tethered their speed boat to the platform and scaled it. As they approached the offices on the bottom level, the picture had cut out, leaving the League Digital Command Center with sound only. And Felicity didn't like the sounds she was hearing. There was yelling and then discernable scuffle noises. Violence.

"Fedil," she whispered, covering the microphone on her headset, "Please man the other station and see if you can establish visual contact with Al-Saheem's second." Both Al-Saheem and his lieutenant were outfitted with video and audio monitoring devices. Every team member had a tracking device, which could be seen on a digital blueprint on one of the monitors. Felicity furiously tapped on her keyboard.

"His name is Husam," Fedil responded for clarification. "Yes, I will do this." He moved quickly and sat down at the comm desk that mirrored hers. He also began work, but his keystrokes were slower and more deliberate.

"Saheem." This name felt strange on her tongue, but she knew using it was necessary. "I repeat have you taken control?" she spoke again, slowly and clearly.

Moments later, a League member appeared in the doorway. "Ra's Al Ghul will be here momentarily."

"Frack!" Felicity willed her fingers to type even faster as windows of data opened and closed with blinding speed in front of her. She needed to make progress here without the distraction of Nanda Parbat's Napoleon.

"We are busy neutralizing the opposition," Al-Saheem's voice roared through the comm speakers, causing Felicity to wince.

"Please stay in verbal contact. We have no visual."

A kerfuffle at the door signaled The Demon's arrival – that and Fedil muttering "Frack," quietly from his station before rolling his eyes toward the heavens. Apparently the blonde was rubbing off on him already.

Ra's Al Ghul and his gravitas entered the room, changing the energy with the swish of his heavy robes. Fedil stood up, but Felicity did not succumb to ceremony. She remained laser-focused on her mission. Ra's scowled at first as he moved next to her, but soon he became mesmerized by the activity whizzing by on the monitors.

"Keep talking to us, Saheem."

"What's wrong?" Ra's asked, agitated.

"Their cameras aren't working."

"This is unacceptable. You were supposed to assure their performance." Ra's' anger was evident in his voice. Felicity continued typing and didn't even look at him.

"The cameras we had on hand, the ones we were forced to use, are fine for work in the dry desert, but it seems they are compromised by moisture. I suspect Saheem and Husam got them wet, which can happen in the middle of, you know, the sea. But we are tracking every member of the team," Felicity pointed to a window on the screen that showed dots moving around the platform. "And we still have audio, so the mission is moving forward. There are new cameras coming on the market that are much more suitable for this work. I would like to acquire them as soon as possible. Now if you will excuse me, I am trying to…" She waved at the monitors.

"You are a bold girl with a bold tongue, aren't you?" Ra's put his hand on Felicity's shoulder. Felicity tried not to cringe while thinking...you have no idea. There were a couple of ways one could interpret that observation. Over recent nights with Oliver her tongue had grown quite bold. But it was the brazen way she was using the League's systems at that very minute to contact faraway friends right under his nose. John Diggle would receive a mysterious text that pinged his phone just as he was putting baby Sara down to sleep. Cisco Ramon, working late in the lab, would discover a mysterious coded email that raised his pulse and got him thinking all night. And Ray Palmer would return to his penthouse after a night of patrols as The Atom to find an intriguing, but worrisome message from the smartest woman he ever met.

Suddenly, Al-Saheem's voice growled deeply over the speaker. "We have secured the facility." Ra's looked toward Felicity and nodded his approval.

Felicity's confident, feminine voice filled the air. "Fedil, please initiate the untraceable ransom note to the President of McMaster Oil." Fedil sat up a little straighter and began typing at his station.

"Initiating the missive to Joseph McMaster," he stated coolly.

"Saheem, we will contact you later with a status update on the ransom. We will also be monitoring the waters to assure that McMaster does not try to send a rescue party. Sit tight." Felicity sat back for a moment, relaxing for the first time in quite a few minutes.

"Now we wait," Ra's spoke coolly. He could be a patient man when his plans were falling into place, Felicity thought. Of course, she could be patient too.

Luckily, Ra's decided to wait elsewhere. His presence in the Digital Command Center was distracting and Felicity wasn't the only one who exhaled a breath of relief when he left the room.

"Ra's Al Ghul is a great man," Fedil proclaimed quickly, worried he had sighed too loudly.

"Of course," Felicity countered. "Ra's reminds me of a professor I had once. We called him Dangerous Dave. He was obsessed with the Red Sox and wore this stupid backwards cap all the time. Anyway, he liked to hover over us while we were coding. Really close. He smelled like hot dogs every single day. It was very distracting and I still can't eat hot dogs. But maybe I should thank him now because if he hadn't, I couldn't possibly have kept working just now. I don't consider what we do here a spectator sport."

Fedil smirked at the rant. "His eminence thinks highly of you. That is a great honor."

"Yup," Felicity replied. "I would like you to monitor McMaster's communications. Hopefully this guy is smart and we can wrap this up quickly. If he tries to reach out to anyone who isn't a bank in the next few hours we may need to alert Al-Saheem. Meanwhile, I am hacking into their company security to make sure no red flags are going up. I'm also monitoring the waters nearby to make sure no one crashes the party. I'd also like to order those new cameras."

"I will send you the credentials for purchases," Fedil replied. Now it was Felicity's turn to smirk.

The rest of the operation proceeded rather perfectly. Four hours later, McMaster had wired three million dollars to the League's untraceable account and the strike team was on its way back to Nanda Parbat.

**xxxXXXxxx**

The night air was warm and surprisingly still. Then the sound of people, armed men in heavy boots grew louder. They were escorted by minions and torches lit their way up the path to the courtyard where Felicity had paced for nearly an hour waiting for Oliver to return. It didn't matter that she was by herself. She wasn't even afraid. Perhaps that was because her sword was securely set under her robe. Or because everyone in Nanda Parbat now knew that threatening her in any way was a suicide mission that would be completed by Ra's Al Ghul himself.

She spotted Al-Saheem immediately, even though his head was covered in his black hood. Maybe it was his shoulders that were so familiar. Or maybe it was just that she had grown accustomed to seeing him cloaked all these years. As he raised his head, Felicity noted he was still wearing the leather mask that covered the bottom portion of his face. She found it creepy, but couldn't deny that it made his eyes look bluer in the firelight. Unfortunately, those eyes were hard as marble at the moment.

She watched him march mindlessly past her and felt a pang of panic. Maybe he didn't see her. Felicity closed the distance between them and followed behind him without speaking. When he finally peeled off from the rest of the crew, down an exterior corridor, she tugged at his arm. With little effort, his enormous form whirled around and pinned her up against a wall in a dark alcove with just his forearm. His other hand had already produced a hidden dagger and raised it high above her head. Felicity let out a gasp.

"It's just me," she bleated, pulling her cowl away from her face and revealing her blonde hair. She studied his weary eyes. Felicity trembled as she sought recognition from him, but he remained still and deadly. "Just me. Your girl."

Felicity forced herself to brighten and smile at him. Then she slowly slid her hand around to cover the one he had clenched near her abdomen, pinning her to the cool stucco wall. She massaged his strained knuckle with her thumb for a while and watched the darkness in his eyes fading. Her eyes darted from his face to the dagger he held above her. When he finally lowered the weapon, achingly slow, she reached up and carefully removed his mask, dropping it unceremoniously to the ground. His mouth was set, hard as he swallowed. Her fingers gently touched his cheek before her hand palmed his jawline and slipped around his neck, his muscles there taut with tension. Felicity pulled his face down towards hers.

"It's me," she said again. Al-Saheem looked confused just before she kissed him. Granted, it wasn't so much a kiss as it was an assault on his mouth. Felicity wasn't waking sleeping beauty here. She was trying to reach him through a shock, sensory overload. Her lips parted and her familiar tongue found his quickly, massaging it and licking the inside of his mouth until he moaned and pressed more than just arm against her. When they finally disengaged to gasp for breath, Felicity saw that he had sheathed the dagger and slipped his free hand around to cradle her head, stroking her familiar pony tail. She buried her face in the hollow of his neck as his eyes closed.

"Oliver, I love you." she whispered. He only panted in response. "Come back to me. Take me. Right now."

At first, there was no response. "I mean it. Right here against this wall, Oliver Queen," she hissed. All she felt was his breathing as his chest raised and lowered against hers. "I am so ready for this and I think it's a really good idea. Technically we haven't had wall sex yet. We had tapestry sex that one time, which was great, but it didn't count because it was kind of, you know, civilized. And inside. I want dirty, hard, outside wall sex," she panted in his ear. "And I am getting so wet just talking about it. Come back to me, Oliver."

She felt him shift against her. He sighed audibly. "You didn't think tapestry sex counted?"

Felicity bit her lip and smiled. "Well it was good, but you know, not…hard. It could have been dirtier is all I'm saying."

Oliver pulled back and faced her. "How dirty are you going for, exactly?" He moved in to nibble on her soft earlobe, sending heat right through her.

"I hadn't given it that much thought," her head tilted to give him more access to her exposed skin. Oliver started moving his nibbles down towards the area where her neck and clavicle met – the last skin he could reach before her robe started. "Somewhere between filthy and…ah, right there." Her head lolled back and she grinned, grateful that she'd managed to turn him away from the darkness again.

"Okay," was all he said. The next fifteen minutes was a fevered blur. Oliver's body still pinned hers to the wall. He rubbed up his heavy wool uniform up against her. His hands moved to her hips, slipping under her tunic and warming her skin. Next, his fingers zeroed in on her warm breasts and he explored her nipples, discovering all over again how much he enjoyed touching her. He knew his girl appreciated what he was doing because she reacted…enthusiastically. Even in the dimmest light, anyone could tell that his body was pretty pleased as well.

Felicity's hands caressed his short hair while she drew his lips to hers like a magnet. Their tongues grew hotter as they teased and tasted each other. Oliver disengaged from the exchange to focus on getting access between her legs. It wasn't easy. He ended up tugging down several layers of clothing before successfully stripping her bare from the waist down. A button fly in his uniform freed him and soon heated whispers and desperate moans were accompanied by the torrid sounds of needy flesh making contact.

When they finished, Oliver, in a much better mood than when he'd arrived, helped her dress. He stole a few last kisses, one pressed sweetly against her cheek. "So, was that tawdry enough for you, baby?" he whispered into her skin.

"Mmm hmm," her blush was lost in the dark.

"Let's go hit the showers, then," he was ready to retire and relax for the night.

"Wait, before we go back." She grabbed a fistful of his tunic and tugged. Her voice became very quiet, forcing Oliver to listen closely. "You didn't say how things went today."

"You heard most of it."

"Yes, I did. The video failure worked perfectly, by the way. Thank you. I was able to do a lot. Even with Ra's literally breathing down my neck."

"He really does have a thing for you," Oliver shook his head.

"I'm just irresistible to men from all walks of life, Oliver Queen. Better stay attentive."

"I'm not going anywhere," he caught a stray strand of golden hair with his finger and trained it back behind her ear.

"Good." She placed her palm on his chest, feeling for his heartbeat. "Oliver. You had a bad day, didn't you?"

His head dropped forward a little and seemed to get heavier at that moment. "Yes…there were casualties. Not ours."

"You can't be responsible for these lunatics, you know." Felicity found his hand again and resumed her soft play against his knuckles.

"I know. It's just hard."

"We are going to end this craziness soon. I promise." With that, she wrapped her arms around his solid torso and hugged him close with everything she had. "And I always keep my promises, Oliver. Always."

**xxXXXxx**

**Well, things are really starting to heat up with Felicity's plan to undo the League's hold on Oliver. I hope you are enjoying the story! Please do leave a comment if you are inspired.**


	9. The Consort in Chaos

**Thank you so much for your comments and support on this story. I hope you enjoy where things are going. In this chapter, things heat up and Felicity has to adapt. **

**xxXXXxx**

It was a Saturday and while Felicity had come to accept that Saturdays in Nanda Parbat were pretty much like every other day in terms of duties, she insisted that Oliver linger in bed a little longer than usual on weekends. He knew better than to disagree, so they wove themselves together in bed and talked as light from the rising sun entered the chamber. Felicity was nestled against him, her back resting against his chest.

"Are you okay?" Felicity asked him as nonchalantly as possible. "You had another nightmare last night."

"Sorry," he replied, tangling his fingers in strands of blonde hair.

"No, it's okay," she replied urgently. "I just…never know if I should wake you or not."

"I don't remember it now."

"I rubbed your chest for a while and it seemed to pass."

"Thank you." Oliver took her hand and kissed it. "I stopped in to see Thea late last night. Malcolm said she seemed to be having nightmares too."

"Maybe that's a good sign. It could be that she's coming back."

"Maybe. Malcolm also told me that your training was going well. You've started working with shiruken."

"The star thingies. Yes, I've been throwing those a little. I used to be good at bar darts."

"He says that you are improving."

"Ha!" she guffawed. "He never tells me that."

"He just doesn't want you to become complacent. That's good. So what's on your agenda today, lovely Manar?"

"You haven't called me that since our w-…ceremony," she corrected. Okay, over-corrected.

Oliver clasped her hand in his and raised them up to where the sun was streaming above them. He held them there and they both watched their fingers entwine in the light. His voice lowered.

"There were a lot of names I could have chosen that meant happiness. Or beauty. But they weren't right. I wanted to call you something that reflected your strength. You are a beacon for me. When I came back from the island, I was still lost and you were…you still are my lighthouse. Always there, showing me the way."

"Love you," Felicity whispered as a happy tear slid down her cheek and fell onto Oliver's chest. He brought their arms down and pressed another kiss against her hand before letting go. She reached back and raked her hand along the top of his softly buzzed hair. Too short for her liking, but enjoyable to pet for now.

She cleared her throat. "Since you asked, this morning I am expecting some very special technical equipment to be delivered."

"You don't even try to explain it to me anymore," he chuckled.

"I just know that you aren't actually interested in satellite terminals and wireless repeaters, Oliver. That's okay. I expect to have everything in place in a week. Then, we will be ready."

Felicity continued chattering, eventually sharing the latest gossip overheard in the Library, which now rivaled any beauty parlor in Starling City when it came to the exchange of salacious tidbits about League members. Oliver had taken to calling it The Sex Library.

The Librarians were information collectors of the first order and it didn't matter how mundane the intel, it found its way in as if magnetized. Threats of treachery were important to know. But, as Adil had explained to her, just as important was knowing who was sleeping with whom here in the middle of nowhere. Evidently there was a code and like all of the rituals she had observed so far, Felicity had been assured that it mattered. Oliver recited a few passages from the League manual (her name for it, not his) and explained that a large group of Assassins was much harder to reign in than a Boy Scout troop. While most were highly disciplined and obedient, the occasional case of insubordination had lethal consequences. Felicity nodded, having experienced this first hand. Oliver reiterated that order was essential. Anything that threatened it was taken seriously and usually eradicated at the will of Ra's Al-Ghul. When Oliver used the word "eradicated," Felicity found it chilling.

"Do they gossip about us in the Sex Library?" Oliver asked offhandedly as he nearly completed a mental catalog of the moles on her arm, touching each one softly with his index finger.

"Me, constantly. I'm apparently sleeping with you, Malcolm Merlyn and Ra's. It's kind of like a big high school cafeteria with swords and death. I do hear some of the lady assassins here are quite taken with _you_." She drew out the last word of the sentence for emphasis.

"Oh, really?" He smirked, planting soft kisses on her shoulder. Felicity was loving this morning. Even though they were talking about the League, Al-Saheem was nowhere in sight.

"Mmm hmm. You are total man candy," she grinned. "There's this crazy legend going around that once you ascend to be the new Ra's your…you know…will magically grow to…" Felicity demonstrated a rather significant increase in size using her hands. Oliver snorted.

"What? My cock is supposed to get bigger?" He adopted a perplexed smile and shook his head.

"Yup. Which made me think maybe I should abandon my plan. It could be worth it." She teased. Oliver playfully tried to muzzle her mouth with his hand. She batted him away. "It also made me think that if it was true that could explain why Ra's walks around here so sure of himself like he does. Maybe there's also secret chamber with a spring full of Viagra water." Felicity was in full babble right now. Oliver couldn't possibly interrupt.

"I also started wondering what happens to the current Ra's when you take over. Does his manhood go back to regular size," Felicity indicated this with her thumb and index finger two inches apart, "or is it a perk for life?" She tried to sound serious, but her voice cracked into a giggle at the end.

"A perk?" His face registered bemusement and bewilderment as he angled his body to press his enthusiastic, but currently unmagical member against her more directly. "Felicity," he growled in her ear. "I really don't want you thinking about Ra's Al-Ghul's dick. For any reason. Ever."

"Oh. Okay." She responded as her lover's crotch rubbed against her back. Her breathing became more labored as his hands slipped around her hips to massage the sweet spot between her legs. "Anyway," she continued, "I made it known that you didn't need any supernatural assistance in that particular area, thank you very much."

"Fine," he whispered, closing his eyes and savoring the feeling of her soft, moist skin against his rough hands. Her thighs were beginning to tense up and she turned her head in search of his mouth.

"I told them that your penis was already huge," Felicity sighed.

Oliver cleared his throat. "Thank you, Baby, but I don't think that's…" he chuckled, ramping up the pressure and the speed of his current activities.

"Like an Argentine Blue-Billed Duck."

Oliver's eyes flew open, a look of panic took over his face. "Felicity! You told them I was hung like a duck? What?"

He stopped rubbing her for a moment. Felicity took this opportunity to turn her body and face him, throwing her leg across his thighs and settling softly down on his excited lap.

"I was exaggerating, of course, but they are librarians so they were, you know, impressed."

Oliver still looked confused, but Felicity's proximity assured that he returned his fingers to stroke her while she rubbed against him. Felicity ran her hands through her messy blonde bed hair and moaned again. The view from Oliver's angle was pretty spectacular. His body tensed and flexed automatically.

"So what you are saying is this Argentine Blue Bill has a big…"

Felicity leaned down and kissed him with soft lips while reaching for his hardest muscle, which was quite generously sized for her liking.

"Mmm hmm. Seventeen inches," she murmured against his mouth.

"Whoa," Oliver's surprise shifted into relief before he slid his tongue against hers for an aggressive exchange of slippery heat. Felicity pulled away when she was out of breath and straightened her back. She watched his beautiful blue eyes focus on hers as she placed him at her entrance and slowly lowered herself.

"That is one lucky duck," Oliver groaned, clasping her hips with needy fingers. Then, he licked his lips, anticipating what came next.

**xxxXXXxxx**

The problem with concocting an elaborate plan to end the existence of archaic group of highly trained killers was, as always – other people. Variables outside of Felicity's control were a constant threat that could thwart her cleverly devised machinations. Timing would be everything.

On this particular day, Thea woke up.

It was late morning and Felicity had been unpacking the last of her new equipment in the Digital Command Center. One package in particular had yielded some tasty treats from Star Labs. Cisco really was ingenious when it came to hiding nifty components inside other, less exciting tech. She was careful to keep Fedil distracted with work as she stowed the parts in her bag. Fedil only took his eyes off his screen when an envelope was delivered to his colleague. He watched her read the note and excused herself.

"Fedil, I need to take care of something. While I'm gone, could you try hacking into Palmer Technologies again? I really would like to get my hands on those files I told you about. They contain some really useful algorithms we could use for stealth broadcasting to our Assassins in the field."

Fedil nodded, unaware of the fool's errand he was being sent on. Felicity had already contacted Ray in an encrypted message and alerted him of a planned incursion. She even had Palmer set up some dummy files for him to find, eventually. Coding for his smart watch wi-fi from three years prior looked like a reasonable prize at the end of a digital Easter Egg hunt. The other result of a successful hack would be that the League system would become vulnerable during the breach, allowing Ray to access their system at the same time.

Concentrating on his new task, he did not see her load her satchel with several pieces of equipment before exiting.

After Felicity left, Fedil asked the messenger the source of Felicity's missive. Malcolm Merlyn was the curious answer.

**xxXXXxx**

When Felicity rushed into Merlyn's chambers, he was not waiting in the sitting room where they always trained. The tapestry was no longer hanging on the wall, there was blood flecked on the floor and the place looked like it had been ransacked. There were even shiruken littering the floor.

"Malcolm!" she called out, concerned.

"In here," she heard him holler from Thea's chamber. Felicity dropped her bag, threw off her heavy cloak and rushed toward the closed door. She pushed it open and was surprised to see Merlyn leaning against Thea's cot. Her body was swaddled tightly in the tapestry and she was tied with a golden cord.

Looking down at Thea's face, Felicity understood why the man was restraining her. The young woman with the delicate features was awake, but her eyes were feral, like an animal. She panted and strained against him violently. He bore a bloody gash on his temple where she had caught him unaware.

"I found out she woke up an hour ago when she struck me with my own staff. I don't think she did it on purpose. She's confused."

"Are you okay?" Felicity asked, unable to take her eyes off of Thea as she moved to a nearby basin and dipped a cloth in the standing water. The girl facing her was physically subdued, but she still looked dangerous. Her hair was a mess. Felicity was sure Thea, if she was in her right mind, would be crying out for some personal grooming products right now.

"Yes, I will be fine. Thank you." Malcolm stepped away from the cot, grateful to have another set of eyes on his wild child. He took the cloth Felicity offered him and used it to wipe away the blood and sweat from his face.

"What can I do?"

"Watch her for me."

His words panicked Felicity and she was immediately sorry she had asked the question. "Wh-where are you going?"

"I need you to keep an eye on her while get a sedative. She's all adrenaline right now and I'm afraid she might have a seizure if she doesn't calm down." Malcolm put his hand on Felicity's shoulder so she would look at him, effectively distracting her from Thea. "Ms. Smoak, my daughter is not okay. Now that she's awake, I really need to get her home."

"I understand. I do." Felicity's forehead furrowed. "But we need you here. We need your help. Oliver can't fight by himself."

"And I do want to help you. But I can't keep her drugged for very long. The narcotics here are too strong to be taken for an extended period."

Felicity sighed and nodded as Malcolm moved towards the door. Her brain was already processing and reconfiguring changes to her plan, workarounds, and new contingencies. How could they do this without ARGUS? Even if she called John now and asked for Lyla's help, it could be days before they arrived.

"Is she safe like that?" Felicity asked, eyeing her "sister" with concern and trepidation. "Am I?"

"She shouldn't be able to get free from the knots. But I would appreciate you watching her. I'll be back soon."

"Okay." Felicity sat down on a nearby chair.

"Oh," Malcolm returned to the doorway, wrapped in the black cloak of the Dark Archer. "Please don't send word to Oliver right now. Tell him tonight when you see him. I think it's best that Ra's and the rest of the League know as little as possible about what's going on here."

Felicity nodded. "Malcolm, get some extra drugs. I think I might need them myself."

"Right." On that, Malcolm disappeared and then she heard the outer door close with a loud click.

This left Felicity Smoak, IT Girl extraordinaire locked in a room with her almost sister-in-law. Her crazy, violent, almost sister-in-law.

"Thea, it's me." She spoke very deliberately, calmly, hoping she might recognize her voice from the times she had stopped by to visit. "Did I tell you about the time Digg and I flew to Lian Yu to fetch Oliver? Oh my god. I had to jump out of a plane just to get there. It was insane. Well you know what it's like. You think you're going to be on this beautiful island and it's a hellhole. Within the first twenty minutes, I stepped on a freaking land mine…"

**xxXXXxx**

Late in the afternoon, shadows were getting longer and activity in the corridors was slowing down. Malcolm had received a note from Felicity. Moments later, assuring that Thea was finally in a deep sleep, he headed to a spot near the Library to meet Al-Saheem's Consort.

Felicity was leaning against the wall at the end of the long hall near the Library when she spotted Merlyn walking toward her. Her heart started beating faster. His eyes were dark and mouth drawn tight. Upon his approach, he stopped mere inches away from her body, erasing the usual personal space one employed in these situations.

"Ms. Smoak."

"I think you can call me Felicity now. I mean…" Her bright lips adopted a slight smirk and she cocked her head to one side.

There was movement at the other end of the hall. Malcolm leaned into her. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

Felicity raised her hand and flexed it before resting it on his jaw. "Shut up, Malcolm."

Everything went in slow motion from there. Felicity's arms slipped around Merlyn's neck. She shut her eyes tight and leaned forward, allowing her lipstick to make contact with the Malcolm Merlyn's mouth, leaving a crimson smear. She felt his hands slip around her back. He dropped his face to her nuzzle her neck. Felicity ran her fingers through his hair as he concentrated his lips and teeth on a single spot. Her head was throbbing. _Damn, he's going to leave a mark_.

If their assignation hadn't taken place near the Library, no one might have noticed two lovers in a hallway. But they were seen. Al-Saheem's Consort and the Dark Archer. And soon the corridors of Nanda Parbat were reverberating with scandalous whispers. When word reached Ra's Al-Ghul's chamber his anger could not be contained.

**xxXXXxxx **

**OMG. Can you believe that? Felicity and Malcolm Merlyn? evil grin**

**Thanks so much for reading the story. I hope you are having fun and you'll stick with me for the next chapter or two. We are nearly there! **

**Please do leave a comment. Love to know your thoughts! **


	10. The Consort Creates Havoc

**Welcome to the final chapter of Felicity Smoak vs. the League of Assassins. In this chapter...so much action! The heroes must be saved!**

Crouched in her chamber, still dressed in the robes she wore in the hallway, Felicity placed a few final taps on her tablet. She raked her fingers nervously through her blonde hair and fiddled with an earring dangling from her lobe.

She thought about the day's events and wondered about the cologne that scented her robe. Vetiver and lime. Malcolm. Worry had set in hard and she wished she smelled Oliver instead. She sunk her face into his pillow and drew in a deep breath. Woodsy. It was reassuring. She also took a moment to scream into the pillow because she was very anxious right now.

Outside forces had scuttled her original plan and she had jumped headfirst into Plan B now. Unfortunately, Plan B had nothing on Plan A. Plan A had been diabolical and elegant, like a wonderful string of code. Plan B was more of a last minute hack to avoid an incomplete grade. Felicity only hoped that she could count on the League to act predictably: adhering to an unflagging devotion to rituals and procedures and feeding on an exceptional preoccupation with gossip, to get her through the next few hours. Oliver had not returned to their rooms yet and she wondered if she would get a chance to speak with him before –

Ra's Al-Ghul's guard detail arrived banging at the door. Felicity hardly had time to press a final "send" and slide her tablet under the bed when the heavy wooden portal flew open.

"Hey! What?" she stammered as rough hands pulled her to off the mattress and shoved her into the corridor.

The Assassins in their hoods and masks holding torches urged her down the halls at a brisk pace. She wondered why they didn't have any pitchforks to prod her with.

"W-where are we going? Can we slow down a little?" Felicity's figure was small compared to the rest of the group and she had to walk twice as fast as the others just to keep up with their strides.

A sense of foreboding grew stronger as they approached their destination – Ra's meeting room. When they entered, Felicity scanned the space, trying to assess what she was walking into as quickly as possible.

Five guards lined the wall. Ra's was standing in the center of the floor. His arms were folded and his head was directed downward. He looked to be carrying a heavy burden by his posture. Nearby, Malcolm Merlyn stood staring calmly at a wall. There was blood on his face, which concerned Felicity. She wondered if it had been the result of resisting the guards or an altercation with Ra's. Of course, there was every possibility that it wasn't even his.

Felicity was brought to stand next to Malcolm. He tried to focus on the same wall Merlyn's gaze was fixated on, but couldn't figure out what was so diverting there. It must have been some kind of League/Jedi mind exercise that kept a person from freaking out. The tension in the room reminded her of the times she met with Moira Queen, only…weapons. The hostility level was similar. Felicity stood there quietly for a few minutes and then there was a commotion. The last guest arrived.

Al-Saheem entered with two other League members following in lockstep. Felicity could read no emotion on his face as he stopped and stood at attention near Ra's.

After a lengthy pause, the Demon's Head finally looked up and began to walk a slow path. He passed Oliver without as much as a look, and then headed towards Felicity and Malcolm.

The IT Girl saw a familiar face arrive at the door. It was Fedil. He looked agitated and uttered noisy, unintelligible words as he tried to convince the guards outside to let him through. The distraction he might bring, whether it be a plea for clemency or something else, was not welcomed by Ra's during this solemn gathering. "No one enters," he ordered the guards by the door. Ra's picked up a goblet and took a drink. Carrying his drink, he appeared unflappable, but Felicity knew better. He was extremely flapped.

The Demon's Head stopped in front of Mr. Merlyn and Ms. Smoak and took another swig. He appeared to be "stewing" as Donna Smoak would say. Felicity tried not to look at Ra's although he was only two feet away. In that moment she felt his glance might turn her to stone.

"You are all here because I have received word of a disruption which is completely unacceptable. I do not understand what I am hearing. I am not sure that I believe it, but the sources that have brought it to me are reliable. If this is true, it is a betrayal not only of Al-Saheem, but of the legacy of Ra's Al-Ghul and the entire League.

Ra's directed his attention to Malcolm first. He sneered at him as he spoke.

"You, Saher. You are an accomplished man. You know the ways of the League. When you returned here you did so in full awareness of our code. I am incensed that you would stoop so low as this. Certainly, infidelity happens in any community, but to fraternize with the woman of Al Saheem, my Heir. The next Ra's Al Ghul. A man who deserves respect and whom others look to for leadership. How could you do this? What kind of sorcery has the Magician performed this time?"

It looked for a moment that Malcolm's response to the rant would be silence. Then, he surprised Felicity by taking a moment to think and then speaking in an earnest voice.

"I could not look away from her light."

Then something curious happened almost too quickly to observe. Ra's appeared to acknowledge what Malcolm just said, glancing at Felicity. Then he gave Malcolm a nearly-imperceptible nod, followed by a slap hard enough to turn Merlyn's face towards her. Meanwhile, Felicity ruminated on what he had said to deserve the punishment. It was a poetic statement and she internally congratulated him for choosing the romantic proclamation over an announcement that she was a great lay. Their blue eyes met for a brief moment of recognition before Malcolm regained his composure and his dutiful stare into the invisible beyond, like a cigar store Indian with a palm print rising on his cheek.

Ra's then turned his attention towards Al-Saheem's woman, stepping in closer. He grabbed Felicity's chin and forced her to make eye contact with him. She grabbed for his hand and jostled his drink, spilling wine on his robe and angering him further.

Ra's was too distracted to see Merlyn's hand reach out to touch Felicity's free hand. Without looking, she snagged a few fingers and exchanged an understanding beneath the lengthy sleeves of their robes. As tough as she was, Felicity was feeling outnumbered and a bit queasy with stress.

Looking into the face of the Demon's Head, Felicity was smart enough to know it was time to be afraid. He looked very angry. His eyes were dark and she noticed his lip twitching beneath his beard. He drew even closer, invading her personal space.

"Infidelity is a very serious charge, Manar." As Ra's dragged his index finger down her cheek, Felicity's pressed her lips together tightly. She looked tough. "I must confess, I did not think you capable of something like this. I truly thought that you were devoted to Saheem. You played a very convincing part of the besotted bride for some time, it appears." Felicity's eyes shifted to Oliver, who showed no indication that the discussion bothered him at all. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

Felicity did not respond, although it was obvious Ra's was expecting her to speak in her own defense. He grew impatient waiting. Raised voices in the hallway distracted for a moment, but Ra's retrained his gaze on blonde.

"Well, Girl, what do you have to say for yourself?" Ra's took a step back and once again folded his arms against his chest.

"What I have to say should be said to Al-Saheem," she stated with a slightly defiant tone. Ra's raised his hand as if he would slap her as he had Malcolm, but he allowed it to hover above her a moment and then he groaned loudly to drop his arm. Oliver continued to stand at attention nearby, without affect.

"You are not in Starling City now. You are amongst the League of Assassins. This is hardly a fact that should escape you. We have made you welcome here. You have been taught our ways. You made your vows to this man," Ra's waved his arm towards Saheem. "Blood vows to the only man worthy enough to succeed me. And you throw it away to be with this inferior creature, this scoundrel. It defies logic."

Felicity finally spoke, trying to sound tough and self-assured. "These walls are filled with violence and pain and death. It's a lonely place, particularly if you don't belong. My name is Felicity and I do not belong here. He should have known. Instead, the man I loved abandoned me even while he stood next to me." Felicity forced herself to direct her comments towards Al-Saheem and studied his expression in search of a reaction. She saw nothing. It was as though he was a shell. She wasn't even sure he heard what she was saying.

"Love. Love is nothing. Duty is everything. You are incapable of understanding this," he practically spat the words in her face. "You have no idea what punishment awaits you for this treason." Observing him, Felicity thought the older man actually looked disappointed. You would have thought he was the one who had been cuckolded.

"Take this ridiculous creature out of my sight."

"Wait," Felicity spoke up. "I want to address Al-Saheem one last time. I mean, it is the last time, probably and I think I should get to face him. Can't I do that? Isn't that my right?"

Ra's shook his head, sighed and waved his arm to convey permission before walking back to stare daggers at Merlyn. Felicity slowly moved towards Oliver and stopped in front of him.

"When you said you loved me you were mistaken. You loved the woman who found you bleeding in an alley. " Felicity used every ounce of energy within her to try to connect with the man in front of her, to forge a crack through his statue-like façade with her words.

"That person, the one who agreed with your plans, the one who…always made you coffee." Felicity glanced over at Malcolm and then back to Al-Saheem. Or was it? She might have caught a micro expression changing on his face.

"That woman does not exist. I need you to look at me." Every word was painful for her, but it had to be said. Slowly, her lover's eyes lowered to meet hers.

"I hate you, Al-Saheem." Felicity said the words slowly and with as much conviction as she could muster. She reached out from beneath her cloak to find his hands and took them in hers. She sought his gaze like her life depended on it (because it might). Her voice cracked. Merlyn looked on, expectantly.

"Do you understand?" she asked pointedly, moisture gathering in her eyes.

Oliver Queen nodded, his blue eyes blazing a little more brightly. Felicity's words were familiar, as were her warm hands and the promise they currently delivered.

"You have had your say," Ra's interrupted, seething from a few feet away. "Now you will be gone. And next we'll decide what to do with Al Saher. Target practice, perhaps." Guards from the doorway approached Felicity and grabbed her arms, then began pulling her towards the exit. With the portal unblocked, Fedil managed to enter once more, this time hollering at the top of his lungs.

The source of the outburst was unclear, but Oliver Queen didn't care.

A thousand years ago Tadamasa cut a short sword into pieces that could be concealed easily and then used as weapons by throwing or stabbing the small blades. These shiruken evolved into the throwing stars that Oliver was now launching towards the guards who had taken hold of Felicity. Every shard of metal cut through the air in a blur and found its mark. The men dropped.

Malcolm was moving now too. He quickly caught the closest guard unaware and relieved him of his sword, then set about engaging Ra's, whom he assessed as the most dangerous adversary in the room. Ra's hurled his goblet to the ground and drew his own sword. Immediately, their confrontation filled the room with sharp violence and the sound of metal clashing against metal.

With her immediate captors felled, Felicity spun around to see Oliver set his sights on engaging the rest of the guards. Blood spatter was decorating the walls and he was taking several of them on at once. He was beautiful to watch in action. The instinct and the grace of his movement were nearly mesmerizing.

Felicity was thrilled that Plan B was working so far. When the guards came to collect her they hadn't checked her for concealed weapons. Why would they? She was a cute blonde hacker and still the Consort. To touch her would have overstepped and might have incurred the wrath of Al-Saheem if she was exonerated. Felicity had managed to hand the throwing stars off to Oliver discreetly, taking a cue from their past – a day that neither of them would forget. Only this time, the words had been spoken by her and they were blatant lies. She loved Oliver Queen with everything she was. Adrenaline pumped through her veins now and resolve was overpowering her fear.

Suddenly, Felicity was faced with Fedil, who had chosen her for confrontation. He looked a little crazy and extremely angry. His face was red and she could see he was panting, having run over from the Digital Command Center. Felicity was grateful no one in this place used cell phones.

"Our satellite communications have been compromised," he spat. "I would imagine you know something about that." Fedil grabbed her shoulders and tried to push her to the ground, but she had solid footing.

"I do," she responded. "I also know about the planes and the helicopters that are landing a mile away." Felicity pushed back and the two of them ended up rolling on the ground.

"You could not bring an army big enough to defeat the League," he huffed as they tussled.

"They aren't military. They are journalists. With access to the feeds I've set up. The cameras you ordered for me should be working great with the repeaters I placed all over Nanda Parbat." Felicity's hair was flying in her face now from the exertion.

Fedil looked confused. Felicity managed to get to her feet and her attacker followed her.

"Palmer Tech. I know the CEO. Really well." The man reached for his scabbard, but was too slow. Felicity kicked his knee and pivoted so that her elbow connected with his chin when he crumpled. A side kick to the head knocked him fully to the ground and completely unconscious.

Felicity couldn't help lifting the corners of her lips as she took his knife. Her training with the Dark Archer had improved her skills and while she wasn't Nyssa Al Ghul-lethal, she could kick the crap out of an IT Guy. That was new.

"Felicity! Are you alright?" Oliver called to her while simultaneously punching another guard in the face.

"I love you."

"Good answer, Baby. Love you too."

Merlyn looked exasperated by the cute talk. "If you aren't too busy, Ms. Smoak, perhaps you could monitor the door?" he barked as he deflected Ra's last assault.

"That reminds me. No more smooches for you, Malcolm," Felicity declared as ran to the door to watch for more guards coming, all the while monitoring activities in the room.

"Right," Oliver piped up, smashing one of the guards with an inspired, nasty blow. "We're going to talk later, Malcolm."

Oliver had improved his odds substantially and was now fighting the last two guards in hand to hand combat. Nearby, Ra's and Malcolm were fairly evenly matched in the swordplay department. It would have made great theatre if it weren't so dangerous. They had a rhythm going now. They circled each other for a few moments and then their blades met with furious clanging. They attacked and defended intensely, recalling all of the times they sparred together when Malcolm was Ra's' protégé.

Ra's was smart. He kept an eye on Oliver's progress with the guards while he engaged his old student. When Oliver was down to one opponent, the Demon's Head lured Malcolm into a simple hit. Ra's took the cut to his arm, but it allowed him to draw the younger man closer and enabled him to strike Malcolm hard with his fist. Merlyn lost his footing and landed on his back. Ra's took the opportunity to rush out of the room.

Felicity didn't see him coming. Hell, she wouldn't have expected to see Ra's retreating at all. But there he was, suddenly, beside her at the door and pulling her out into the corridor. Felicity cried out. Her mind extrapolated a range of possible outcomes for this new development. She had not come all this way in order to become a hostage, a bargaining chip. Again. Felicity swung Fedil's knife wildly with her free arm, but her weapon was deflected and flew out of her hand. The Demon's Head continued to drag her down the hall. Running out of options, she opted for crazy.

Since Ra's was expecting her to struggle, she stopped resisting and moved with him, keeping pace. Closer. Closer. And when she was close enough, Felicity vaulted sideways, towards his face, scratching at his eye with her fingers and biting his ear as hard as she could, breaking the skin.

Ra's cursed the blonde and tossed her against the corridor wall. Felicity slumped to the floor, having lost her breath. The head of the League of Assassins was feeling the pain of from the blow he took from Malcolm and now there was blood streaming down his neck. He took a few steps back to towards the room and saw shadows rushing to the door. He also heard the footfalls of more guards. A handful of reinforcements arrived on the scene.

Feeling more confident, Ra's spun around, only to find the small blonde woman standing there clutching the first thing she could put her hands on – a burning torch. Down the hall, Oliver and Malcolm emerged and began fighting Ra's fresh guards.

"So this was your plan all along? You think you have what it takes to stop the League?" he hissed, preparing to lunge for her.

"Yes, Ra's. The only way to end a secret organization of insane murders is to make sure it isn't a secret anymore."

Days later, Felicity would have to explain what happened next to Nyssa. She had swung the torch at Ra's to protect herself and his garment caught on fire, intensified by the alcohol that had doused him earlier. The flames surprised them both. Ra's reeled around the room looking to stop the flames from growing, but he was unsuccessful. His hands fumbled against his robe and he finally ran down the hall.

Malcolm, Oliver and Felicity chased Ra's Al Ghul all the way to the Lazarus Pit, his body engulfed in fire until he plunged in. He didn't come back up for some time. Felicity and Oliver waited by the water's edge while Malcolm rushed to check on Thea and assure that she was still comfortably sedated.

When Ra's Al Ghul's body finally surfaced in the Pit, Oliver fished it out and laid the down on the hard ground. The man was gone. His body was damaged by the fire and transformed by the water. He had used the waters for the last time and they would no longer save him. The next day, as crews from CNN, the BBC and Al Jazeera swarmed the location, Oliver took charge of the League as Ra's had designed, but not in the way he wanted.

Oliver Queen refused the title of Ra's Al Ghul, but ended up their chosen leader due to the power vacuum that had been created. In a private meeting with a few key members, Oliver conducted his first official act. He disbanded the League. Felicity smiled broadly that day. It had been such a long time coming. She did not observe Oliver's last act as the Demon's Head. He headed into the mountains with the body of the former Ra's Al Ghul strapped to the back of a horse and found a quiet spot to bury him where no one would find the body.

xxXXXxx

One month after Ra's' death, Oliver and Felicity were finally able to leave Nanda Parbat. Malcolm had taken Thea home three weeks earlier and was reporting that several therapies were successfully bringing her back to herself, but nightmares were a lingering issue.

Now, it was their turn to leave. A shiny Gulfstream arrived on a Tuesday, emblazoned with the logo of Palmer Technologies. Upon boarding they found sumptuous treats and a kind note from their host congratulating them on their success, generously encouraging his "cherished friends" to take the jet wherever they liked.

"I don't usually like air travel, particularly after jumping out of that plane that time," Felicity said, snuggling up to Oliver. "But this is kind of civilized." She sipped her glass of red wine and moaned as the flavor slid past her tongue.

Oliver was relaxed, happy to be rubbing his hand lazily along her thigh. "So what do you want to do next?"

Felicity gazed at him, enjoying his exquisite face and the decided lack of stress she perceived there. She pursed her lips to stifle a giggle, which drew his eye and made it twinkle.

"Fe-li-ci-ty," Oliver leaned his head back and grinned. "You know, I'm starting to wonder if you only keep me around for one thing." It was then that he felt her hand exploring his lap. He smirked, as she only reinforced his point.

"No Oliver. I keep you around for two things." Felicity tried to maintain a serious look, taking another slug of Pinot Noir. Oliver's head lolled toward her. "The first one is, you know, that reason, because you are…amazing." This elicited a trademark Oliver Queen smirk. Felicity put down her drink and leaned forward to kiss it off his lips. His mouth welcomed hers and they teased each other with tongues instead of words. They finally parted, panting in unison and Oliver leaned his forehead to rest against hers.

"And the second thing?" he whispered, effortlessly pulling her into his lap.

"Hmm?" she responded like her bones had turned soft.

"The second thing, you keep me around for." Oliver dropped his head to bury it against her shoulder.

"Oh yeah," she sighed, molding her body against his completely. "Everything else."

xxXXXxx

**Well, that's it! I hope you enjoyed the story. Please do drop me a note, here or on Tumblr (also quiveringbunny). I would love to hear from you. Also, if you enjoyed this story, please do read my other projects!**


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